


Of Claws and Cutlasses

by TerminalMiraculosis



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/F, Pirate AU, Stronger language than canon, but its all in the name of Pirate AU so i have ZERO regrets, glaring anachronisms, gratuitous misuse of sailor jargon, mermaid au, mermaid!Webby, no gore or anything, pirate!Lena, stronger violence than canon, yall im so hype for pirate au....
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 91,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminalMiraculosis/pseuds/TerminalMiraculosis
Summary: Magica de Spell, captain of the Shadow Pirates, has ruled the seas as the cruelest, most notorious pirate around for close to two decades now, and Lena's about done with it all, to be honest. But when she and her best friend Violet jump ship to start their own pirate crew, picking up a trio of adventure-seeking Navy kids along the way, they realize that they're going to need a way to make some gold, and fast. And what better way to get rich quick than to capture and sell one of the long-lost mermaids?Meanwhile, Webbigail Vanderquack, sole heir to the Matriarch of the mermaids, is getting real tired of being cooped up in her stuffy ol' castle. What she wouldn't give to have some pretty, foreign wonder scoop her up and show her the world...
Relationships: Lena (Disney: DuckTales)/Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 188
Kudos: 344





	1. Pretty Little Seashell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and Violet steal both a boat and some unattended children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PIRATE AU PIRATE AU PIRATE AU--
> 
> I am very excited. Please enjoy.

The boards creaked under Lena’s boots as she stole across the gun deck. She could see the very edge of Duckburg through the gunports, though from where they were moored, it was mostly empty beach. Previously, Lena had always been nervous whenever they had to dock for supplies—all the people, all the noises, all the sights and smells… It could be a bit overwhelming, especially compared to the serenity of the open sea. But this time, Lena couldn’t be more excited to be ashore. 

She slipped into her cabin. Her roommate and best friend, Violet, was already there, lying in her hammock and reading a thickly-bound book entitled _“Exotic Creatures of the Ocean.”_ Her bandanna was tied loosely around her forehead to keep her hair at bay, and she already had her gun, knives, and cutlass affixed to her belt. She put the book down when Lena came in, speaking in a hushed voice.

“Did you manage to acquire supplies?”

Lena nodded, shrugging her bag off of her shoulder and opening it up between them. “As many provisions as I could fit, some tools, and a few gold pieces I was able to pickpocket off Glomgold.” She closed the drawstrings on the bag and threw it back over her shoulder before reaching into the collar of her shirt and pulling out a rich purple stone on a cord around her neck. “Also, this.”

Violet gasped. “You took the amulet? Lena, when Magica finds out—”

“When Magica finds out, we’ll be long gone,” Lena said. “What about you? Did you get the map?”

Violet opened her own bag, and between the stacks of books, pulled out an old curled piece of yellowed parchment. Lena could just make out the coarse ink that detailed the map on its surface. “All set,” she said.

“Then we should get going. It won’t be long until they’re back from shopping.” Lena grabbed her cutlass and secured it to her belt, right next to her pistol. “Last chance to change your mind.”

Violet smirked. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“I’m glad,” Lena said softly.

Lena had first met Violet a couple years ago, back when The Shadow Pirates had raided her village; Lena hadn’t been there personally, as she refused to take part in the raids (much to Magica’s frustration), but from what she understood, Violet had offered to join Magica’s crew in exchange for her family’s life. Suffice to say, Lena had been shocked when Magica had told her that she’d be sharing her cabin with ‘the new brat’ that they had picked up. 

It had taken a while for Lena to convince Violet that she wasn’t like the others, but after that, they’d become fast friends. A year and a half later, when Lena had first pitched her plan, Violet had immediately been on board. And Lena was thankful for it; without her help, Lena probably would’ve been caught months ago.

But if they didn’t get moving, they’d be caught _now._ So Lena double-checked that she’d gathered up everything important to her—it wasn’t exactly much—and then, with a nod to Violet, they scurried out of the cabin and up the stairs to the main deck. They inched past a slumbering Glomgold, who was ‘definitely not going to fall asleep again while watching the ship’ and was a ‘very reliable crewmate,’ and snuck down the gangplank, onto the beach.

Lena gave a glance over her shoulder. Magica’s ship, The Dark Eclipse, was an average-sized three-masted frigate—more modest than one might expect of such a notorious pirate crew, and of such a megalomaniacal captain. Their enemies often seemed surprised that the Queen of Pirates wasn’t heading a galleon or a warship, but even considering the spells she used to help keep things functioning, Magica ran a tight crew. She wasn’t quick to trust, and thus chose her crew members very selectively; they had to be greedy enough to risk joining her operation, but simultaneously either too weak (Mark), too dumb (Flintheart), or too smart (Lunaris) to betray her. It was a precarious balance, and there had only been a few takers over the years. Some would argue that Magica was overly paranoid, but considering that Lena and Violet were currently betraying her, maybe she actually had the right idea. 

Or, maybe they were just the perfect level of stupid to think this would work, and Magica would end up sacrificing them to some demons in a few days after their plan went up in flames. Who could know, really?

The ship had been moored at a small beach near some sort of disused amphitheater, far away from the actual heart of Duckburg, where nobody would find it. Lena and Violet took off down the beach towards the docks in the distance, skirting through the aisles of the theater.

“Did you ever see any plays, Vi?” Lena asked. The oversized captain’s coat she’d stolen from Magica’s quarters flapped behind her as she ran, its empty sleeves flailing in the wind. “Back in your village, I mean.”

“A couple,” Violet said. “One of my Dads was pretty into theater, and he dragged me to a few.”

Lena smirked at her. _“Dragged_ you? I thought you’d be the type to enjoy some good storytelling.”

“I found it hard to maintain a healthy suspension of disbelief, what with all the masks and silly costumes.”

“Of course you did,” Lena laughed. Then her voice grew a bit softer. “We’ll find them, Vi. I promise.”

Violet looked stoically forwards. “Let’s just focus on getting off this island before Magica figures out what we’ve done. I can see the docks up ahead.”

“I still think we should’ve burnt down The Dark Eclipse,” Lena mumbled. “Then they wouldn’t have been able to come after us at all.”

“And I still think that the ship has enough ancient magic on it that if we tried destroying it, we’d start choking to death on our own souls or something,” Violet said.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “I thought your whole thing was that you _weren’t_ superstitious.”

“Choking curses aren’t superstition, Lena. They’re very real.” They were approaching the docks now; there were all manner of ships fastened here, from fishing boats to Navy warships. Violet sighed. “I wish we didn’t have to steal from civilians for this.”

“Oh, get over it,” Lena shot back as she surveyed their options. They needed something small, fast, and not impossible to maintain with two people. “Duckburg’s a Navy town. They won’t miss it.”

“I feel like stealing from the Navy is worse,” Violet said. “They’re trying to protect people.”

“Like they protected you and your family?” Lena hissed. “Oh, right, your village didn’t have enough money to _pay_ them to. Look, maybe it’s because it’s all I’ve ever known, but in my opinion, pirates are _much_ better than the Navy. And as your new pirate captain, my first order for you is to live a little.”

Violet gave her a bemused look. “Live a little?”

“We’re finally free!” Lena said, giving a quick twirl as they walked. “Starting your own pirate crew, is, like, the _definition_ of freedom. So let’s go steal a boat and explore the open seas a little!”

Violet rolled her eyes, but let a small smile grace her beak. “Well. I suppose a single boat can’t hurt.”

“That’s the spirit!” Lena said, punching her in the shoulder. “Now, which one should we—”

“That one,” Violet interrupted, pointing to a single-masted Naval cutter docked a few piers down. “The craftsmanship appears excellent, and while the rigging will be tricky to manage with just two people, she’ll be able to easily outrun The Dark Eclipse under most winds.”

“Being able to outrun Magica sounds pretty good right about now,” Lena said, nodding with satisfaction. “Come on, then. No time to lose.”

They walked down the docks until they came to the ship. The gangplank was already extended onto the pier, practically welcoming them aboard. Lena and Violet took the invitation.

“Whoever owns this boat, they didn’t moor it properly,” Violet said as they set foot onto the deck. “The rigging is still done up as if it’s about to set sail.”

“Better for us,” Lena said with a shrug. “You double check everything up here; I’m going to take a peek around to make sure we’re all good.”

Violet nodded, and Lena began to snoop. The crew’s cabins in the forecastle were pretty spartan, with each room only containing a hammock, a cabinet, and small horizontal rod for hanging clothing. There were four rooms in total, which, including the captain’s quarters, suggested an intended crew of five people. They… they’d be fine with just two, right? They had to be.

Lena pushed the thought out of her mind and walked back out to the main deck, where Violet was messing with one of the sidestays. She elected not to bother Violet, and made her way to the stern to check out the captain’s quarters. She pushed open the door, and—

“Is someone there?” a voice cried out suddenly from the other side of the quarters. “Uncle Donald? I’m definitely not stealing the boat!”

Lena couldn’t see who it was from her current position; or, more importantly, whether he was armed or not. Cautiously, she drew her cutlass, before jumping around the corner with a snarl. “Hands up!” she ordered.

“Oh, you are _NOT_ Uncle Donald,” cried the young duck in front of her, throwing his hands up so fast she thought she heard something snap. “Please don’t hurt me!” 

Lena looked down at him, her cutlass at the ready. He was wearing blue sailing garments, and where his sword should’ve been, he only had a metal spyglass strapped to his belt. He wore a big dumb black hat with the jolly roger symbol on his head, and a little tuft of hair stuck up in front of it. Lena pegged him at fourteen; just a couple years younger than herself and Violet.

“W-who are you?” he asked. 

“I’m a pirate,” Lena snarled. “And I’m stealing this boat. So you better get off of it if you don’t want to get hurt.”

“Wh—no way!” The boy broke out into a smile, and began waving his arms around happily. “I’m a pirate stealing this boat too! Wanna team up? I’m Dewey, by the way; pirate captain and adventurer extraordinaire!”

Lena lowered her blade, giving him an unimpressed look. _“You’re_ a pirate.”

“Well, not yet, I guess. But once me and my brothers set off, then I will be! Look, I even have this pirate hat!” He pointed up at his hat. “See?”

“…I’ve never seen a pirate who wears a hat like that,” Lena said flatly.

“Oh,” Dewey mumbled, his smile faltering. It perked back up again in no time, though. “Well, you have now!”

“Sure.”

“So, what do you say?” Dewey asked. “Wanna join my pirate crew?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” Lena said. “Besides, you would be joining _my_ pirate crew. I’ve got this captain’s coat and everything.”

Dewey narrowed his eyes, inspecting her coat. “That _is_ a pretty cool coat. How big is your crew, anyway?”

“Just one other person.”

“Ha! We outnumber you!” Dewey said. “I get to be captain!”

Lena raised her eyebrow and her cutlass.

“OKAY okay you can be captain! You can be captain!” Dewey said frantically, backing up.

“For the last time, you’re not joining my—”

“Lena!” Violet’s voice called from outside. “We have a situation!”

“Shit,” Lena said, turning and running back out to the main deck. There were two more boys there, each one bearing a strong resemblance to Dewey; those brothers he’d mentioned, then. One was wearing red, and the other was in green. The green one and Violet were currently pointing pistols at each other, though while Violet’s arm was as steady as a statue’s, green-boy’s arm was shaking all over the place. Clearly, he had not shot anybody before.

“I-I’ll shoot!” said green-boy. “I’m not scared of you!”

“No you won’t,” Lena said, exasperated. She sheathed her sword, walked over, and slapped his arm down to his side. “Relax, Vi. They’re no threat.”

“Dewey?” asked the red one. “Who are these people?”

“Pirates, Huey!” Dewey exclaimed. “Real ones! And we’re gonna join their crew!”

“We are?” asked his brothers.

“They are?” asked Violet.

“No,” Lena shot down. “Not a chance. Nope.”

“Aw, but _please?”_ Dewey pleaded. “We _never_ get to do anything fun! We wanna explore the open seas!”

“We want to learn about the vast world beyond Duckburg!” said Huey.

“We want to find treasure and get rich,” said green-boy.

“Don’t mind Louie,” Dewey said. “He also has very noble reasons to be a pirate. Right, Louie?”

Louie shrugged.

“Please,” Lena scoffed. “You three? Pirates? What do you even know about sailing?”

“A _ton!”_ Huey exclaimed, pulling a book out from the satchel he had over his shoulder. “I read all about what it’s like to be a pirate, and—”

“Is that _A Pirate’s Life_ by Marshall Blackbird?” Violet asked. Lena shot her a glare.

“You know it?” Huey exclaimed.

“Well, it _is_ a rather illuminating on various aspects of… nautical…robbery.” Violet’s voice faded out, withering in the face of the daggers Lena’s eyes were shooting her. “Sorry. It’s a good book.”

Lena rolled her eyes, turning back to the boys. “Okay, but, like, do you have any _actual_ experience? That’s not from a bunch of paper?”

“We’re from a Navy family,” Dewey explained. “Our Mom’s a Captain under Scrooge McDuck! And our Uncle Donald used to serve, too, but he stopped when we were born to help raise us, so now he’s a shipwright for the Navy. We helped him build this ship!”

“And he made _sure_ we knew how to sail,” Louie said. “So many boring lessons… But, look, the point is, we both want the same thing here, right? We could use some more experienced pirates on board, and you could use some extra pairs of hands. Huey’s a great helmsman, Dewey’s a great rigger, and I can, like, supervise.”

“You’re the boatswain, Louie,” Huey said, his tone a bit frustrated. “We went over this.”

“Whatever,” Louie said, waving off his brother. “Look, no way you’re going to be able to run this thing all on your own. This is a win-win.”

Lena grit her teeth, and looked over at Violet, who shrugged. “It would be much easier to handle the boat with their help. And we don’t exactly have a lot of time to deliberate further.”

“Gah, fine,” Lena said. “You can join my crew.”

The three of them burst out into cheers. 

“Yo, we just joined an _actual_ pirate crew!” Dewey shouted, high-fiving his brothers. “This is going _so_ much better than I thought it would!”

Oh, Lena was already regretting this. “Stop messing around and get to work!” she barked. “We’re setting sail immediately—go, go, go! And, blue guy, take off that _stupid_ hat!”

* * *

_“Pretty little seashell, under the sea… What precious little secrets do you hide from me?”_

The notes reverberated through the water, bright and happy, bouncing off the coral and the sand and the fish. Webby was sitting on the river floor, her tail curled up under her as she arranged a pile of shells she had found into a cute little pattern. The midday sun glistened above her, its light spilling down in bursts of glowing refractions as it navigated through the water. She could make out the lush greenery of Mermaid Isle, but from where she was sitting, deep below the water’s surface, the trees and foliage looked more like distorted green blobs.

_“Pretty little seashell, lost in the sand… Would that you could take me to a magical land.”_

She always came out here to the royal gardens when she wanted to be alone. The coral reefs here sprouted with a beauty that would probably be breathtaking, had she not grown up playing within them, and the seaweed and kelp here bloomed in majestic colors that, she’d been told, weren’t found anywhere else in the world. Webby wouldn’t know, though—she hadn’t been anywhere else in the world.

_“Pretty little seashell, hidden from sight… When will you decide to return to the light?”_

Someone cleared their throat from behind her. “Miss Webbigail.”

The final line caught in her throat. With a flick of her tail, Webby turned around to face the lean merman who had appeared in front of her. He was wearing the royal servants' robes, and carried his trident proudly in hand. 

“Hey, Duckworth,” Webby greeted. “What’s up?”

“Your grandmother requests your presence in the Palace,” Duckworth said.

“Of course. Thank you. Tell her I’ll be right up!”

Duckworth nodded, and swam off. Webby let out a sigh, and turned back to her collection of seashells. Her tail swished lazily back and forth behind her, sending ripples through the water and disturbing a nearby school of goldfish.

 _“Pretty little seashell, caught in the tide…”_ She took one of her shells—a deep purple one, with little brush of pink towards the top—and tossed it upwards, where a current whisked it away through the gardens. _“What I wouldn’t give to go along for the ride.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the fabulous and fabuloulsy talented Jen for that killer drawing of pirate Lena!! Please check her out on tumblr ([click here](https://jen-iii.tumblr.com/)), her stuff is super cool!
> 
> My goal is to update weekly, and we'll see how long I can keep it up lmao. Thanks so much for reading, and I'll see you in the next one!


	2. Sailing the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena and her crew set out from Duckburg. Webby has a talk with her grandmother. Various others realize something's missing.

Lena stood on the aft deck, arms crossed over the railing, watching the island of Duckburg slowly shrink away into the horizon. No sign of the Shadow pirates following them to take revenge, and no sign of the Navy coming to take back their ship, either. All in all, it was looking like a pretty successful getaway.

There was a  _ thunk _ from next to her, and she turned to see Dewey standing there, legs bent, wincing in pain. Lena looked up at the rigging above them, and then back to Dewey. “How high did you jump from?”

“Doesn’t… matter,” he pushed out. “Louie said I… couldn’t do it… but I  _ did.” _

“We don’t have a doctor on board, so if you break your limbs, they’re staying broken,” Lena told him.

“I know first aid! Or, um, some first aid… I’ll be more careful.” He paused to follow Lena’s gaze out over the ocean, towards the retreating form of Duckburg. “Wow, it’s so small. I didn’t think this ship would be all that fast, to be honest.”

“You’re uncle builds ‘em good,” Lena said, stretching and turning around. She walked down from the stern back to the main deck, where Violet and Louie were adjusting the backstays. “He should be thankful we took it; she’ll have a lot more fun in our hands than in the Navy’s.”

“So, you’re like, real pirates, right?” Dewey asked. “Do you have a name for your pirate group?”

Lena shrugged. “I don’t know; I was thinking of maybe calling us the Sunlight pirates.”

“Well if you don’t end up going with that one, I have some suggestions I thought of that—”

“Nope,” Lena said quickly.

“Oh come on!” Dewey exclaimed. 

“I’m still not buying that you guys are real pirates,” Louie said from beside them as he pulled a knot closed. “What kind of pirate captain doesn’t have a ship, or a crew, or—or  _ anything?” _

“We… used to be part of a bigger group,” Lena said, sitting down on one of the benches. Dewey sat down next to her, looking up at her with rapt attention. “We defected. But, trust me—we’re real pirates.”

“Ooh, have you ever  _ killed _ anyone?” Dewey asked, leaning forward.

Louie froze. “Oh no. We didn’t just agree to team up with a bunch of murder-pirates, did we?”

“I’m not convinced you actually know much about what sorts of things pirates tend to do,” Violet asided.

“I thought we were just stealing stuff!” Louie said frantically.

“I haven’t killed anyone, no,” Lena answered. “I have fought people a few times, though, when we got boarded. Stabbed a guy in the leg once.”

“That’s so  _ cool!” _ Dewey squealed.

“It was pretty sick,” Lena agreed. “So, what’s your story, then? What made a bunch of Navy kids turn to piracy?”

“Treasure,” Louie said.

“Donald never lets us do  _ anything!” _ Dewey complained, ignoring his brother. “He just keeps us shut up in the house and and makes us help with boat building and stuff. But my heart craves adventure!”

“Uh huh,” Lena said. “What are you gonna do when your family finds out you’re pirates now? You said they work under Scrooge. He’s, like, the poster boy of hating pirates.”

“I couldn’t care less what he thinks,” Louie said darkly. “He’s our great-uncle, you know, and I’ve never seen him. Not even  _ once. _ I doubt he’d even care.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t,” Violet said. She’d finished what she’d been working on, and was now leaning up against the mizzenmast, watching them. “Having the Navy on our tail would only complicate things.”

“Have you… fought against them before?” Dewey asked.

“Again, not personally,” Lena said. “But Ma—I mean, our captain, considered taking down Navy ships to be a kind of sport. She liked to time herself sometimes to see how fast she could sink them, or how quickly she could kill all the crew. She… wasn’t a very good person.”

“Yeah, no, doesn’t really sound like it,” Louie said.

Just then, Huey jogged over to them from the helm. “Hey, Captain—”

“Just Lena is fine,” Lena grumbled.

“Um, right,” Huey said, rubbing at the back of his head. “Well, Lena, then, uh—where are we going?”

Lena blinked. “Huh?”

“I mean, I was just about to set our course, when I realized I don’t know what our course is supposed to be. We were gonna start by heading over to Cape Suzette since it’s close and we’ve never been, but I didn’t know if you guys had a different plan already?”

“We do, actually,” Violet said. She reached into her bag and started pulling something out, before stopping and shooting a glance at Lena. “Or, should we…”

“Just tell him what he needs to know in order to point the ship in the right direction,” Lena said. “I need to take care of some stuff—I still haven’t even freaking unpacked—but let’s all meet below deck for dinner in an hour. We’ll go over the plan in more detail then.”

They all nodded their affirmations, and the group broke.

* * *

Donald Duck let out a contented sigh as he stepped out of the bathtub; oh, he had  _ needed  _ that today. There had been a small mishap involving a ladder, a bucket of paint, and a particularly vicious seagull this morning, and so while some may say that a three-hour bath was excessive, Donald would argue that it was very much owed to him by the universe itself.

He wrapped a towel around himself and exited the bathroom, then stopped dead, his eyes going wide. “Woah! What happened in here?”

The kitchen had been ransacked—food was missing from the cabinets and the fridge, with clear disregard for subtlety. Had someone broken into his house? Were the kids okay?!

“Boys! Boys, are you alright?” Donald shouted, ignoring the messy kitchen and running over to their room. Their beds were empty. “Boys, where are you?!”

His attention was caught by a piece of paper lying on Dewey’s bunk, filled with scratchy handwriting. He immediately picked it up and began reading:

_ Dear Uncle Donald, _ said the note.  _ We’ve gone to become pirates! Louie told me not to leave a note, but I thought you would worry. So don’t worry! We’ll be fine. Oh, and please don’t follow us. _

_ Love, Dewey :D _

“Oh, no,” Donald whimpered.

He rushed outside. His house was by the shipyard, and the shipyard was right next to the docks. Maybe they hadn’t left yet. Maybe—wait. The cutter he’d just finished last week was missing. That wasn’t good.

His anger mounted as he saw his ship sailing away in the distance, sporting a fluttering black flag upon its mainmast. It was too far away to make out the details, but Donald didn’t need to; there was only one reason to fly a black flag. 

“Pirates?” Donald hissed out. “Seriously? Of all the stupid things… If they die out there, I’ma  _ kill _ them!” Without another thought, he turned and ran into town, straight towards the Navy base.

* * *

While the outer perimeter of Mermaid Isle provided grounds for the civilian housing, the rivers and lakes found within the island itself were royal territory. The royal gardens were housed in a long river that connected on one end to the ocean, and on the other, fed into a lake at the heart of Mermaid Isle, sequestered behind the cover of the tall trees on the shore. The Palace itself was in this lake, a massive building constructed from closely-woven coral that dominated the space below the water. The very tops of its spires poked out into the air above, but the real majesty of it was, of course, found under the surface, where gold and purple banners floated out from elaborate window sills, and towers rose and twisted up from the sea floor.

Webby waved at the guards stationed outside the main exit, but swam up above them, entering the palace through a second-story window that led into one of the main hallways. Various brightly-colored aquatic plants spilled out of the wall sconces, and the bioluminescent pearls embedded into the ceiling cast a comforting light throughout the hall. 

Webby swam through the palace until she arrived at the large double-doors that led into the throne room. Duckworth was floating in front of them, and gave her a curt nod as he pushed them open and gestured for her to swim through. She smiled at him as she passed, and he closed the doors behind her with dull thud, sending out a deluge of tiny bubbles.

“Webby, dear. Thank you for coming.”

Matriarch of the Mermaids, Bentina Beakley, was sitting on her throne in a very regal manner. Her hands gripped the armrests with conviction, and she held her back straight up against the chair, gazing out across the imposing length of the throne room to meet Webby’s eyes. Her hair was done up in its usual bun, adorned with small bits of colorful shell and coral, and her double-headed trident, massive and gold and wickedly sharp, was leaning against the side of the throne, the gemstones inlaid in its cross-sections glinting through the water.

“Hey Granny,” Webby said, swimming closer. She made sure to swim a ways above the floor, too, so she was eye-level with her grandmother. That would’ve probably been considered grossly disrespectful had Webby been anybody else. “What’s up?”

“Hmm. What’s up indeed, dear,” Bentina said, holding her gaze. “I was hoping you could help illuminate for me a matter which has been confounding me terribly as of late.”

“…Yeah? What matter?”

“There has been a rumor circulating amongst the townsfolk; it was brought to my attention during a meeting with a few of the nobles. Apparently, a recent hunting party that set off from the Northeast end of the Isle has been claiming that you were trying to tail after them on their hunt.”

Webby gulped. 

“Now, I imagine you can understand my confusion,” Bentina continued, her purple robes rippling in the water. “After all, what would my granddaughter, the  _ sole heiress _ to the throne, be doing off with a group of civilian hunters?  _ Especially  _ when she has strict orders not to leave the royal grounds. So I was hoping you could help me to better understand the situation.”

“I just… wanted to see something new,” Webby said. “You’re always keeping me cooped up here. I want to go see new places and new things, maybe eat some new fish, maybe—maybe, I don’t know, see a land dweller or something.”

“Webby, we’ve discussed this!” Bentina exclaimed, her eyebrows narrowing. “You talk of land dwellers like they’re some sort of…  _ carnival _ attraction, but they’re  _ not _ . They’re ruthless monsters out to kill you and hang your tail on their mantel. Remember rule number one?”

“Of course I do. ‘If you see a land dweller, hide. If a land dweller sees you, make sure they never see again,’” Webby recited. “But I mean, come on! They can’t  _ all _ be bad.”

“They are  _ dangerous, _ Webby.”

“So are we!” Webby argued. “We’re  _ more _ dangerous! Land dwellers don’t even have claws, just dumb, stubby, round little fingers. And their teeth are so  _ small!” _

“You’re underestimating them. I made that mistake once, too, but there is a  _ reason _ we don’t actively hunt them anymore.”

“Just because you’re scared of them doesn’t mean  _ I _ have to be,” Webby said, crossing her arms.

Bentina’s face darkened. “I’ve heard quite enough, young lady. Duckworth!”

The doors opened, and Duckworth poked his head in. “Yes, my Lady?”

“Escort Webbigail to her room. Until I state otherwise, she is not to leave it except for her regular meals.”

Webby clenched her fists, her tail lashing about angrily. “But Granny!”

“Do not argue with me,” Bentina said. “Why don’t you practice your music? You’re getting quite proficient with your lyre, and I know singing helps calm you down.”

“Maybe I don’t  _ want  _ to calm down,” Webby spat, crossing her arms.

Bentina sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Stay incensed, then, if it satisfies you so much; it was just a suggestion. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“After you, Miss Webbigail,” Duckworth said, holding the door open.

“Thanks, Duckworth,” Webby hissed as she swam out of the throne room.

* * *

Della Duck adjusted her captain’s hat as she walked through the Navy base. Her necklace, which held a delicate, intricate blue seashell, bobbed against her collar with every step. Her boss and Uncle, Admiral Scrooge McDuck, was walking alongside her, gesticulating furiously with his cane, which he carried around despite not needing a cane.

“I’m telling ya, Della,” Scrooge said, “these recent reports of pirate sightings sound an awful lot like the Shadow Pirates!”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Della said. “That’s what you said last time, when it was just the Beagle Boys. And the time before that, when it was the Air Pirates.”

“You know, I wonder why they called themselves the Air Pirates,” Scrooge said. “They were just normal pirates.”

“Maybe it’s because they’re full of hot air,” Della suggested. “But my point still stands; your track record hasn’t been exactly convincing.”

“But this time I’m  _ sure _ of it! Yes, I’ve had a lot of false alarms, but this alarm is louder than all the others! Magica de Spell is the only pirate I’ve ever let get away. She’s my mortal enemy! I’m not losing this chance.”

“You don’t even know if it’s a chance yet. Or if she’s mortal, for that matter.”

Before Scrooge could reply, the door at the end of the hall banged open, and Della’s eyes went wide as Donald charged into the hall. “Della! There you are!” he cried. Years of siblinghood had honed Della’s ear, but Scrooge still flinched in mild surprise before remembering who he was talking to. 

“Donald?” Della asked. “What are you doing here?”

Lieutenant Crackshell-Cabrera poked his head in, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. I, uh, tried to stop him, but…”

Scrooge sighed. “It’s fine, Lieutenant,” he said, waving him off. “But seriously, Donald, what are you doing here?”

“The kids stole a boat to become pirates!” Donald shouted.

_ “WHAT?!” _ Della exclaimed, her eyes flaring wide. “Why didn’t you stop them?!”

“I was taking a bath!” Donald said frantically. 

“I’m… I’m sure they’ll come back, right?” Della said, her fingers tapping against her thigh. “They’ll just screw around a little, and then they’ll come back.”

Scrooge turned to Della. “But the reports of pirates in the area—what if they run into  _ her?” _

“It’s  _ not _ Magica,” Della said. “But I don’t want them running into  _ any _ real pirates. Look, Don, the Spear is ready to sail. I’ll set out to look for them right away.”

“Are ya crazy, lass?” Scrooge said. “A whole warship, just to chase some runaway kids?”

“It’s  _ my _ ship, and they’re  _ my _ runaway kids,” Della argued. “I’m going after them _. _ Think about it like a patrol to check out those pirate sightings if it makes you feel better. Donald, you should stay at your house in case they come back.”

“I’m coming with you!” Donald said. “They’re my kids as much as yours.”

“I—I know that! But you’ve been retired for ten years, Don. And someone should be waiting there in case they turn up.”

“Fine,” Donald relented, crossing his arms. “They’re probably heading for Cape Suzette. They always wanted to visit.”

Scrooge sighed. “Della…”

“Scrooge, I’m taking the Spear of Selene,” Della said before he could say anything else. Then, as an afterthought: “I’m sorry.”

And with that, she walked out.

* * *

Lena twirled a knife in her hand as she waited at the small circular dining table below deck. Violet was over in the galley cooking dinner; it wasn’t nearly as well-adorned of a kitchen space as the galley back on The Dark Eclipse, but Lena was confident that Violet could make it work. 

It wasn’t long before the triplets bounded down the stairs to join them. Louie was complaining about how the cabin he’d gotten was smaller than the others, while Huey was complaining about how much Louie was complaining. Dewey wasn’t listening to them, and instead ran up to sit next to Lena, looking up at her with sparkling eyes.

“Stop that,” Lena said.

Dewey blinked. His eyes were still sparkling. “Stop what?”

“Stop, I don’t know, thinking I’m cool.”

“But you  _ are _ cool! You’re a pirate captain!”

Lena raised the knife. “I could stab you in the face right now. Would that be cool?”

“Okay, yes, it would be, but also please don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Dewey,” Louie said, taking the seat across from Lena. “She’s not going to stab you. She’s too much of a softie.”

Lena turned on him now. “Oh? Looks like somebody’s asking for an eyepatch.”

“Hey, uh, Ms. First Mate, do you need any help?” Huey asked, looking over at Violet. “I cooked a lot for us when our Uncle was busy, so, um…”

“I appreciate it, Huey, but I’m almost done,” Violet said.

“Violet’s food is  _ amazing,” _ Lena said to the boys. “I don’t know how she does it, but she can make the shitty slop of the third month at sea taste almost edible.” She paused. “You three do know you might not return home for years, right? Or ever again.”

“Yeah, we… we know,” Dewey said. “I know we might be a bit inexperienced, but we’re not treating this like a vacation or anything. We’re committed.”

His brothers nodded in assent.

“Good,” Lena said. “Because once we tell you our plan, that’s it. You’re not allowed to bail on us.”

“Jeez,” Louie said. “What’s so important about your plan?”

Violet approached the table then, setting down the bowls of the stew she’d been making, as well as her map. “Take a look,” she said.

“Woah, a treasure map!” Huey said, leaning forward.

Louie’s eyes went wide, and he quickly swallowed down a spoonful of stew. “Did you say  _ treasure?” _

“Of a kind,” Lena said. “The first thing we need to succeed is some more funds. I stole enough gold from our last crew to last us a little while, but it’ll probably be gone after our first time stopping for supplies. We need a plan to get a lot of money fast, in a more reliable way than just raiding other ships.”

Dewey squinted at the map, tracing his finger along the dotted path, all the way to the island under the ‘x’. “…Wait a minute. ‘Mermaid Isle?’”

“As in, the hidden refuge of the mermaids?” Huey asked. “People have been looking for it for  _ decades! _ This would be a huge discovery!”

“If we could capture and sell a mermaid…” Louie began, his eyes wide. 

Lena nodded, smiling. “We’d have enough funds to sail around the world twice over.”

Dewey broke out into a grin. “Oh, now  _ that’s _ an adventure!”

* * *

_ “Where is it?!”  _ screeched Magica de Spell, her eyes angrily scouting every corner of her upturned quarters. Every drawer had been emptied, the contents of every cabinet strewn about, but she still. Couldn’t.  _ Find it!  _ “GRAH!”

She burst out onto the main deck. They were just beginning to leave Duckburg after their supply run, and she currently had several of her crewmate’s animated shadows up in the rigging adjusting the sails. The ship rocked beneath her feet as she marched up to Mark Beaks, her helmsman, who was leaning idly against the wheel, opting to focus on a small ball-and-paddle game instead of on where the ship was actually headed.

“Beaks!” Magica demanded. “Did you take the sumerian amulet?!”

“What?” he asked, looking up. “Uh. No? Don’t you keep it locked up in your room or whatever?”

“It’s  _ missing,” _ Magica seethed. 

“Did you, like, check your coat pocket?” Beaks asked absently, turning his attention back to his toy.

Magica crossed her arms. “My coat’s missing too.”

“Huh. Welp, I’m out of ideas.”

“Oi!” called Glomgold from farther up the deck, where he was currently getting tied up in the ropes as he attempted to help the shadows with the sails. “Cap’n!”

Magica groaned and looked over to him. “What is it this time? I’m not going to waste my time untangling you.”

“It’s not that!” Glomgold said. “I was just gonna say that if yer lookin’ for yer coat, I saw yer niece walkin’ around with it earlier while you were out.”

“What?!” Magica screeched. “Why didn’t you stop her?”

Glomgold shrugged. “I figured you’d told her ta, like, wash it or something.”

Magica grit her teeth. “Oh, if that little twerp did anything, she’ll  _ regret  _ it.”

Magica turned and stormed down to the gun deck, where Lunaris was stocking the ammunition they had just bought over by the starboard guns. Well—more accurately, Lunaris was sharpening his knife at the card table, while his little assistant stocked the ammunition. What was her name again? Panabroo? It didn’t really matter. 

“Ah, captain,” Lunaris said as she approached, setting down his knife. “I was just looking for you! See, I wanted to discuss the arrangement we have going for my employment here. I’ve been feeling recently like the share of the treasure I receive isn’t proportional to the amount of effort I put into this job. Perhaps you could spare me some of Flintheart’s earnings? It’s not like he does anything useful anyway.”

“Later,” Magica spat, storming past him. She soon reached the aftmost section of the deck, where the spare crew cabins were. She wasted no time barging into the one shared by the girls.

“Lena, you whelp!” she demanded. “What did you—”

She stopped dead when she realized the cabin was empty. The girls’ clothes were missing from their hangers, the cabinets had been cleared off save for a few nonessentials, and all of Violet’s books were missing. But most damning of all was the message that had been carved into the back wall with a knife:

_ Bye, bitch! _

Magica barely held in her scream of rage. That little _brat!_ Had she forgotten her place? Had she forgotten that she was _Magica de Spell,_ _Queen of Pirates?!_

Had Lena forgotten what she  _ was? _

“Captain!”

_ “WHAT?!” _ she shouted, spinning around. 

Mark was sticking his head down from the main deck. “There’s a Navy warship up ahead. We could probably ditch them if you—”

“No,” Magica said darkly, her fingers curling around the hilt of her sword. “Head straight for them. I need to blow off some steam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fantastic art of Lena & Violet this chapter was done by the amazing Vecillius! Thanks so much!! 
> 
> Hey I just wanted to thank you guys for all the support this piece has already gotten. It's very encouraging, and I'm glad to see people are as excited as I am for this AU! I'll see you next week :D


	3. A Magical Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Della learns something new. Webby goes on an adventure.

Admiral Scrooge McDuck of the Duckburg Naval Base was sitting in his office filing paperwork when the door burst open. Gyro Gearloose, one of his subordinates, tumbled in, falling over his own limbs.

“Sir!” he shouted, before finding his balance and standing at attention.

“Wh—Gearloose?” Scrooge questioned. “Ever heard of  _ knocking?” _

“Apologies, sir, but this is urgent! The—”

“What, so urgent that you had to throw your basic manners to the wind? What if I’d been in the middle of an important meeting? You can’t just barge in like—”

“Sir, The Dark Eclipse has been spotted off the coast of Duckburg, engaged with a Navy battleship.”

Scrooge dropped his pen.  _ Della…  _

He got up and rushed out of the room.  _ “Launchpaaad!” _

The helmsman in question poked his head out of a neighboring room. “What’s up, Admiral McD?”

“Round everyone up onto the Sunchaser,” Scrooge ordered. “We’ve got a date with  _ destiny.” _

“Oh, no,” Launchpad said, wide-eyed. “I’ve never been on a real date before. What should I wear?”

Scrooge pinched at his forehead. “Just… get to ship.”

* * *

“Open fire!” Della shouted, her hand gripping the port railing of the Spear of Selene as tightly as she could. Her other hand was at her neck, fiddling nervously with her seashell necklace. But it wouldn’t be able to help her here. Oh, of all the times for Scrooge to be right, it just  _ had _ to be this time, huh? 

The Dark Eclipse had managed to broadside them, and Della cursed as a cannonball landed just shy of their hull. Della’s gunners shot their first volley as well, but they all went uncharacteristically wide. Della squinted, and she could see that standing on the prow of The Dark Eclipse was a figure, tall and thin with a cloak billowing out behind her. She held a cutlass in either hand, and they were both glowing with some sort of unnatural energy.

“What the hell…?” Della muttered.

The Spear’s second volley fired, but Magica de Spell thrust her swords out to the sides, and the cannonballs swerved away, splooshing harmlessly into the waves. And then with a crash, the deck bucked under Della’s feet as one of the Eclipse’s cannonballs exploded against the ship’s hull. Della took a few moments to shout orders to her crew, but she was cut off by a grapple line hooking around the railing. Della drew her blade and was about to begin sawing through the rope when a shining golden spear stabbed up towards her. It missed her beak by a few inches, and Della stumbled backwards onto the deck. 

“Aha, that’s right!” shouted a broad-shouldered man with off-colored skin and golden armor as he jumped the railing. “Cower in fear, Navy scum!”

“I’ll chop you all ta bits!” cried a rather bulbous duck with a thick Scottish accent and a stupid hat, who came up immediately behind the other man. “I’ll feed ya tae the sharks!”

“Get to the cargo, you idiots!” berated a tall, skinny parrot as he hauled himself over the railing with a grunt. “Before the ship goes down!”

Della stepped forward and raised her blade, but they rushed past her, moving in to engage with a few of her crew members by stairs that led below deck. Della cursed, but pushed them out of her mind, instead turning towards the enemy ship—there were bigger fish to fry anyway. Magica de Spell was still standing on the prow of the Dark Eclipse, proudly holding her glowing swords and looking on fondly at the chaos on Della’s ship. The two ships were right next to each other now; Della set her jaw, ran forward, and launched herself off the railing, landing precariously on the end of the Dark Eclipse’s bowsprit.

“Ooh, careful,” Magica teased as Della hastily found her balance. “You wouldn’t want to  _ fall.” _

Della let out a warcry and launched herself forward at the pirate. If she could take out Magica, then they might have a chance at survival. All it would take was one good blow.

Magica countered Della’s strike with one blade, and cut out with the other. Della sidestepped the swing and repositioned for a backhand strike, which Magica caught on a cross block inches away from her chest.

“This is where it ends, de Spell,” Della said as they disengaged, staring each other down from just outside of a sword’s reach. “I was trained by the best.”

Magica smirked. “Funny; I don’t remember training you.”

“I’m talking about Scrooge McDuck,” Della said, narrowing her eyes.

“Oh, you’re one of Scroogie’s captains!” Magica exclaimed, a smile splitting across her face. “Now, that  _ does _ make things interesting. Maybe I’ll switch things up and take you alive.”

“I’d like to see you try!” Della shouted, lunging forward for a thrust.

But before she could complete the move, her arm stopped short—someone had grabbed her from behind. She let out a grunt and tried to elbow backwards at her attacker, but it was no use; whoever this was, they were strong. She looked over her shoulder to try and get a better look, and let out a gasp. The person holding her wasn’t a person at all, but rather a smoky silhouette of herself, stretching up from her shadow and smiling devilishly.

“What—what is this?” Della asked, frantic.

“We’re not called the Shadow Pirates for nothing, sweetie,” Magica said. She took a few leisurely steps forward, raising one of her cutlasses; it pulsed with light, and the eerie pale glow washed across Della’s uniform. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. I’d  _ love _ to talk with you about our good mutual friend Scrooge. But I  _ am _ going to have to make sure you can’t… run away.”

Della let out a gasp as Magica’s sword arced downward, straight towards her leg. A millisecond later, the gasp mutated into a scream; and then everything went black.

* * *

The bioluminescent lights of the palace pounded down against Webby’s scales as she swam through the halls, each flick of her tail harsh and curt as she cut through the water. In a show of unthinkable rebellion, she didn’t even bother thanking Duckworth as he held open the entrance to her room. She simply sulked inside, letting the door thud softly closed behind her. She flopped onto her bed—it was ridiculously comfortable, with covers made from the finest strains of silkweed and a comforter woven of ambermoss so soft you could sell it for a chest of solid gold up on the surface.

Not that Webby knew that for sure, though, because she had never  _ been _ to the surface, because of her  _ stupid _ granny’s  _ stupid _ rules. It was gonna take a lot more than a preposterously cozy bed for Webby to stop being mad.

“Why don’t you go practice your music, Webby?” she said in a mocking tone. “Why don’t you go sing about all the things you want to do, instead of actually doing them? Would that be good, Webby? Would that make you feel  _ better?!” _

She grabbed her lyre, flicked out the hidden blades in the arms, and threw it so it stabbed into the target dummy over by her dresser, which was already sporting enough wounds from various other daggers and blades to bleed out ten times over.

“Dang. I’m guessing things didn’t go so well with Our Lady the Matriarch?”

Webby turned to the voice. An adult mermaid with sky blue scales and long, flowing cream hair was hovering outside Webby’s window, her tail wrapped around a simple bronze trident.

“Selene!” Webby cried, breaking into a smile. “What are you doing here? I thought Granny had banned you from the castle grounds ever since you released those octopi into the dining hall!”

“Haha, yeah, good times,” Selene giggled. “I mean, what’s she gonna do to me? Besides, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Webby said. Then she sighed. “Ugh, but I can’t do anything today. I’m grounded.”

Selene smirked. “Oh? What’d you do this time?”

“I tried to sneak off with one of the hunting parties,” Webby explained. “I just wanted to see some of the ocean outside of the Isle, you know? But I got caught.”

“Well, hey—your grandma thinks you’re being grounded right now. She probably won’t check on you for a while. So what do you say we go on a little adventure?”

“Really? But, no—no, I shouldn’t. When Granny finds out, she’ll be so mad…”

Selene rolled her eyes. “Webby, you’re how old; like, fifteen? And you’ve  _ never _ left Mermaid Isle. That’s just  _ sad. _ You’ve gotta be a little rebellious sometimes! Goodness knows you won’t have any time for fun once you’re the Matriarch. So grab your stuff and come on! I’ll even take full responsibility for you, if it makes you feel better.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Webby smiled at her. “Thanks Selene. Just give me a second and I’ll be right out. Ooh, I can’t wait!”

She grabbed her fishnet bag from its hook on the wall, and began filling it with everything she’d need, including her lyre, which she pulled out of the training dummy. Then she grabbed her trident; similar to her grandmother’s, it was two-headed, a sign of her royal blood. Webby’s was much smaller, though, and forged a vibrant silver instead of gold. The gemstones inlaid throughout the shaft sparkled a keen pink—when she’d turned ten, the age mermaids got their first tridents, the gems had been a brilliant blue, but Webby had quickly gotten them changed, despite her grandmother’s moaning about the ‘sanctity of tradition.’

Webby slung her bag over her shoulder and swam out through her window, where Selene was waiting for her, trying to spear a few nearby fish with her talons. Honestly, if her granny had wanted her to stay put, she really should’ve blocked off the window. They  _ were _ underwater, after all. 

“So where are we going?” Webby asked.

“I was just thinking we’d head north a ways,” Selene said. She managed to sink a guppy on her middle talon, and popped it in her mouth. She chewed a bit and swallowed before going on. “There’s a pretty breathtaking reef a few miles out. It’s not quite like the Royal Gardens, but the tilapia there have a flavor you just don’t get anywhere else.”

“Sounds amazing!” Webby said as they began swimming off. “Hey, do you think we’ll see any land dwellers?”

“Doubt it,” Selene said, shrugging a little. “Not a lot of ships come through here anymore. Your grandmother saw to that.”

“But they used to,” Webby prompted. “Right?” 

“Oh, sure.” Selene chuckled, a little dryly. “We used to hunt land dwellers all the time. But after pirates kidnapped your parents, well… you know how it goes after that, I guess.”

They lapsed into silence after that. Webby had never gotten the chance to know her parents; they’d been captured only a few weeks after her birth, and it had dealt a devastating blow to the mermaid clan. All the parties sent out to find them had returned in vain. And so all of a sudden, a baby was next in line to the throne, and Matriarch Beakley, torn apart in grief, had given the order for mermaids to vanish from the eyes of the land dwellers, such that nobody could be sure if they ever really existed in the first place. 

“…What are they like?” Webby asked, after a while. “Land dwellers. You got to see a lot of them, right?” 

Selene thought for a moment. “Most of them are mean, greedy, and good for nothing besides a decent meal. But there are a few who are actually pretty great. One of my best friends is a land dweller.”

Webby’s eyes widened. “Woah. Really?”

“Yep. She works for the Navy. Haven’t seen her in years, though; I hope she’s doing okay.”

“That’s so cool,” Webby said, her gaze wandering off as her imagination started to churn. “Maybe I could make a land dweller friend, too! A forbidden bond, forged between two people of disparate backgrounds, but of harmonious hearts…”

Selene laughed. “I’m not sure your grandmother would approve of that.”

“Yeah, probably not,” Webby giggled. 

“I’m still rooting for ya, though.”

“Thanks, Selene.” 

They swam on for another good half-hour, making small chatter about this and that, until Selene suddenly halted, putting her trident out to stop Webby. 

Webby raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Ship,” Selene said simply, staring intently up towards the horizon. Her face was troubled. 

Webby followed her gaze, and, sure enough, there was a dark wooden figure cutting towards them up on the surface. Selene grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind an outcropping of sheet rock, watching the ship sail over them from below.

“A ship!” Webby exclaimed. “We should go say hi! Maybe drown a couple of them if they’re the mean greedy types?”

“No! Let’s just lay low and wait for them to pass.”

“What?” Webby turned to her, feeling slightly betrayed. “Why?”

“It could be dangerous, kiddo. If something were to happen to you—”

“Ugh, you sound like  _ Granny!” _ Webby fumed, clenching her claws. “What happened to rooting for me?”

Selene recoiled. “I just—I just wanted to give you a fun little adventure so you wouldn’t implode. I don’t want to actually put you in danger! I don’t agree with the Matriarch on most things, but if we see eye to eye on anything, it’s that keeping you safe is  _ important. _ I’m not letting you go up there, and that’s final.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you stop me,” Webby said, twirling her trident in one hand. “I want an adventure, and I am  _ getting  _ an adventure, whether you like it or not.”

Selene sighed, raising her own trident. “It’s times like these I wish I’d been a better influence.”

Webby rushed forward, thrusting at Selene. Predictably, she blocked with the shaft of her weapon. Wasting no time, Webby’s neck snapped forward, and she wrapped her fangs around Selene’s trident. Then, with a grunt and a sharp twist, she wrenched it out of Selene’s hands entirely, sending it sinking towards the ocean floor. 

“Wh—hey!” Selene shouted, reaching out hopelessly towards her plummeting weapon. “Not cool, kid!”

“I am  _ very cool!” _ Webby protested. She swam downwards, wrapping the bulk of her tail around the tip of Selene’s. She let out a roar as she flipped around in the water, yanking Selene along after her and slamming her against the rocks.

Selene let out a groan of pain, opening bleary eyes. “When did you… get so… strong…”

And then her eyes went blank, and her body stilled, save for her deep, soft breaths. 

“Sorry, Selene,” Webby mumbled. She quickly pushed her out of her mind, however, and turned her gaze upwards to the ship, which was nearly exactly above her by now. Quick as she could, she swam upwards, breaking the surface of the water just off the port side of the hull. “Hello?” she called. “Anybody there?”

A few seconds passed, and then a young purple bird with lots of curly black hair held back by a bandana poked her head over the side of the boat. 

Webby waved up at her. “Hi! I’m Webby.”

“…Huh,” said the girl. “I’m Violet. Pleasure to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The adorable art of mermaid-Webby is courtesy of [jen!](https://jen-iii.tumblr.com/)
> 
> We're getting to the good part now, people... I'm so excited!


	4. Precious Little Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby’s adventure takes an interesting turn. Lena keeps losing important things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uploading this on mobile so uhhhhhh fingers crossed all the formatting goes through. Anyway, we are entering into The Weblena Part of the story with this next batch of chapters... though fair warning it’s a tad of a slow burn lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Lena sat in her cabin, staring down at three gold pieces laid out on her desk in front of her. She took a deep breath and placed one hand over the amulet she’d stolen from Magica, digging down into her magical core. It’d been so long since she’d needed to access this part of herself…  _ Concentrate… Concentrate…  _

Slowly, the amulet took on an ominous purple glow, and the gold coins rose into the air. Lena reached out and contorted her hand, and the coins began spinning in a tight circle. She slowly tried to exercise more control—making the circle expand and swivel on an axis, spinning two coins around each other while the third orbited the both of them, whatever she could think of—until suddenly her door burst open. 

Her focus ruptured, and her magic sent the gold pieces flying in disparate directions. One bounced painfully off of her face, and she cursed, rubbing at her cheek as she turned to Violet, who was standing in the doorway.

“Vi. What’s up?” she grumbled.

“Sorry, but you have  _ got _ to see this,” Violet said, gesturing outside.

Lena raised an eyebrow. “See what?”

Violet motioned for her to follow. Curiousity piqued, Lena strode out onto the deck, where Violet gestured over the port railing. Lena leaned over the edge, and her jaw dropped a little as she took in the creature staring back at her. 

She was short but muscular, with shoulder-length hair weighed down by the seawater, and she had a little pink starfish affixed on one side of her head, almost like a hair bow. She had pastel wrappings around her chest and forearms, and carried a nasty-looking double-headed silver trident in one hand, with a mesh handbag slung over her shoulder. Her most standout feature though was, of course, her tail; it was strong and lithe, lapping against the water’s surface, and its pink scales caught the afternoon sunlight in a mesmerizing fashion. 

“Hi! I’m Webby,” she said. 

Lena leaned back, blinked, and looked at Violet. “That’s a mermaid,” she stated. 

“Yes, I arrived at the same conclusion,” Violet said. 

“…Right,” Lena muttered. She knew they’d been getting close to Mermaid Isle for a few days now, but she hadn’t expected to just… be  _ handed  _ one out of nowhere. 

But like hell was she gonna waste the opportunity. She leaned back over the railing, and smiled down genially at Webby. “Hey there! I’m Lena.”

“Oh! That’s such a pretty name,” Webby chirped. 

“Oh, uh—thanks?” Lena swallowed. “I really like your bag. Where’d you get it?”

“This old thing?” Webby laughed, glancing down at her satchel. “There were a bunch of fish caught in a net, so I freed them and made a bag out of the net. Then I killed and ate all the fish. Um… I really like your hair! Do all land dwellers have fancy hair like that? Well, I guess your friend didn’t, but—”

“What was that?” Lena called. “Ah, sorry, it’s just hard to make you out when you’re all the way down there. What do you say we continue this up on the ship?”

Webby gasped excitedly. “I’ve never been on a ship before! But if this is a trap, I  _ will  _ kill you, okay?”

Lena rolled her eyes as Violet threw down the ladder. “Pff, a trap? Please, I don’t even know what that is.”

“Well, you  _ seem _ like a nice person,” Webby said, apparently deep in thought. “Okay! Coming up!”

She slipped her trident through a fold of fabric on her back and grabbed onto the ladder. Despite her minor lack of legs, she scaled the rungs like a pro, reaching the edge of the main deck in no time. She wrapped her claws around the railing, and with a little  _ hup, _ flipped herself over it, landing on her tail in a pile on the deck. 

“Woah! This is what a ship is like?” she exclaimed, looking around wildly. “What’s that?”

“That’s the wheel,” said Violet. 

“What’s  _ that?” _

“That’s the boom.”

Webby gasped. “It’s called a  _ boom?!” _

“Because it swings around and if you get hit by it your skull goes boom,” Lena said with a smirk.

“I  _ love  _ it,” Webby said. She slammed her tail against the deck and pushed off, the momentum sending her across the deck, over to the mast. “Wow…”

Just then, Huey poked his head up from below deck. “Hey guys! We should be getting close, so I’m just gonna make sure our course is still straight and oh my  _ god that IS A MERMAID!” _

Webby waved. “Hi! I’m Webby.”

“Oh, jeez, I have so many questions,” Huey said, clutching at the sides of his head. “Ah! Later, later. Dewey! Louie!” He called down to his brothers. “Get up here, you’ve  _ gotta  _ see this!”

Violet coughed. “I’m not so sure we should—”

But she was too late, as Dewey and Louie quickly appeared next to their brother. Lena groaned when she saw Dewey was wearing his lame ‘pirate’ hat; hadn’t she told him to take that off?

“Oh neat!” Webby said. “Are all male land dwellers so samey and bland compared to the girls?”

“I’m offended,” Louie said. 

“No, we’re—we’re triplets,” Dewey said. “Do you have those?”

Webby scratched embarrassedly at the back of her neck. “Oh. U-uh, yeah, sorry.” Then her eyes caught on his hat, and she gasped. “Wait, that hat! You’re  _ pirates?! _ Are you trying to  _ kidnap _ me?!”

Lena threw back her head and let out a sound not unlike a dying seagull. “Oh, you’re fucking  _ kidding  _ me.”

“It  _ was _ a trap!” Webby exclaimed, her face narrowing in anger. She pulled her trident out and twirled it around, the two sets of prongs spinning in a whirlwind of points. “You lied to me!”

“And what are you gonna do about it, Pink?” Lena asked, drawing her cutlass. “Yeah, you got us. We’re pirates. But you’re a fish out of water here. You should just—”

Webby roared, her fangs bared dangerously, and pushed off the deck with one end of her trident to launch herself forward, thrusting out at Lena with the other end. Lena, caught off guard by the sudden movement, hastily blocked with her own blade, taking a step back. Webby swiped out with her claws and tore a few scraps off of Lena’s coat, but she managed to avoid the claws themselves, repositioning her blade just in time to block the next swing of the trident. 

A gunshot went off, but like lightning, Webby’s tail flicked through the air, and Violet’s bullet, which had been aimed perfectly at Webby’s dominant arm, glanced harmlessly off of her scales. Lena took the opportunity to slice out with an attack of her own, but Webby dropped to the ground, propping herself up on one hand. She pivoted on that arm, the rear end of her trident swerving through the air and hooking Lena’s cutlass right out of her hands, sending it skittering across the deck. 

“Shit!” Lena spat. Webby wasn’t done, though; she used the momentum of the follow-through to keep spinning, and this time it was her tail that came swinging at Lena. It slammed into her gut and latched on, wrapping around her stomach, and before Lena knew what was happening there were fangs biting into her shoulder. 

Lena screamed, but managed to elbow Webby hard enough that she was forced to let go. She followed that up with a hard kick to her stomach, which sent Webby crashing backwards into the mast, losing her grip on her trident. Her face was speckled with Lena’s blood.

“Get a rope and the medical kit!” Violet shouted at the triplets as she ran over and wrapped Webby in an immobilization hold. Despite their terrified faces, the three of them nodded and ran off. 

Webby struggled against Violet for a few seconds before she let out another roar and threw her off. Violet landed hard on her back, and Webby nearly managed to pick up her trident again before Lena grabbed her amulet in one hand. She threw her other hand out, and, suddenly, Webby froze in place, surrounded in a purple glow. 

“What… what is this?” Webby asked. She was hovering about a foot in the air, her arms clamped against her sides, her tail curled up behind her. She was shaking ever so slightly—the most she could manage to struggle against Lena’s hold. “What are you doing to me?!”

“I got the rope!” Louie shouted, bounding out of the forecastle. “How do—woah, what the…?”

He skidded to a stop, staring at Webby and Lena. Violet had no such awe, however, and quickly snatched the rope out of his hands. She ran over and wrapped it securely around Webby several times over before tying it in a knot that only Violet would know how to tie. Lena finally let go of her magic, and Webby flopped to the deck.

“Jerks,” Webby pouted, wriggling against the rope.

As the adrenaline drained out of her body, Lena realized that, fuck, her shoulder  _ really _ hurt. She let out a moan of pain and dropped to one knee, and the next thing she knew, Dewey was standing next to her with the medkit, dressing her wound.

“Lena?” Violet asked. “Where should we put her?”

“Keep her in the hold,” Lena hissed out, trying not to wince as Dewey applied pressure to her shoulder. “And search her bag for anything interesting. I’ll be— _ urgh _ —with you in a minute.”

“Wait, don’t look through my bag!” Webby pleaded suddenly. “There’s some very personal stuff in there!”

“There’s some very personal stuff of mine splattered all over your chin right now, Pink,” Lena said darkly as Violet and Huey lifted Webby up, Louie taking her bag. “So I’m not exactly feeling sympathetic.”

“It was self defense!” Webby yelled before she disappeared below deck.

After a couple more minutes, Dewey had finished bandaging Lena’s shoulder, which was still throbbing regularly with a harsh, metallic pain. “There,” he said, packing the medical supplies back up. “You shouldn’t die now.”

“It wasn’t going to kill me, but thanks,” Lena said. She grabbed her coat and stood up, took a step forward, and then sat back down.

“Woah! Are you okay?” Dewey asked. “Maybe you should go lie down?”

“It’s just… blood loss,” Lena grumbled. “Set the ship to go full speed ahead away from the Isle.”

“What?” Dewey asked. “But we didn’t even get to see it!”

“We don’t need to,” Lena said, standing up more slowly this time and shambling off towards her quarters. “We got what we came for.”

* * *

“Put her down in here,” Violet instructed, adjusting her grip on Webby’s tail. Huey was holding her at the other end, looking warily at her mouth, and the hidden fangs within. She hadn’t tried to bite him or anything, though; in fact, she hadn’t been struggling at all. Maybe she figured it wasn’t worth it, or maybe she thought that if she complied, they’d go easier on her. She was honestly probably correct on that front—while Lena put up a stoic face, Violet knew that she was actually very compassionate. She hoped that wouldn’t keep her from doing what needed to be done, though.

They carried her into the cargo hold, setting her down gently among the crates and barrels. She squirmed a bit on the ground, as if she were trying to find a comfortable position, but she gave up after a minute with a small grimace on her face.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked.

“The plan is to sell you,” Violet said. “Nothing personal.”

“…Right,” Webby mumbled. “My friend did say that land dwellers were greedy. I should’ve listened.” 

“Less ‘greedy’ and more ‘broke,’” Huey said with a shrug. “But it’s hard to feel bad when, like, your species is known for eating people. You were trying to kill Lena back there.”

“I—” Webby looked away. “I mean, I guess.” 

Just then, Louie popped his head in from the doorway back to the lower deck. “Hey, guys? There’s some stuff in this bag you should probably see.”

“Don’t judge me!” Webby said quickly, flopping around a bit. “I’m—I’m still working on most of those songs, nobody was supposed to see them yet! They’re not ready!”

Louie raised an eyebrow. “What? No, it—I’m not talking about that. I didn’t even look at those.”

“Oh, good,” Webby said, releasing a breath. “Don’t.”

“Let’s take this to the table,” Violet suggested. Huey and Louie nodded, and they exited the cargo hold, shutting the door behind them and leaving Webby inside. Louie slung the fishnet bag off of his shoulder and approached the dining table, dumping the contents of the bag all over its surface.

“That is, uh.” Huey gulped. “That is a lot of knives.”

“I  _ know,  _ right?” Louie said, staring down at the assortment of blades that had fallen out onto the table. There had to be at least a dozen of them. They were all kept in elaborate leather scabbards with decorative gold inlays; each one would probably sell for a sizable pile of gold, considering the quality of craftsmanship. “Like, wouldn’t two or three be plenty?”

Violet grabbed one dagger from the pile, a longer one with an elegant curve. She unsheathed it, and found that the metal underneath shined with an almost reflective lustre. “These are incredible,” she mumbled. “I might switch out my own dagger for one of these.”

“There’s more than just knives, though,” Huey said, eyes scanning the pile. “Look at the metalwork on that lyre!”

Violet turned her attention to the instrument in question. It was a seven-stringed lyre made from pure gold, with various etchings of fish and seashells along the arms, which themselves ended in carefully-carved mermaid figures. It was lying on top of a small journal made from a paper-like material Violet didn’t recognize—she supposed you had to use some pretty specialized stuff if you wanted to write underwater. The journal was titled ‘Songs’ in loopy handwriting, accompanied by a few drawings of musical notes.

Louie grabbed the lyre, turning it over in his hands. “Woah, is this  _ solid gold? _ How rich are these freaking mermaids if they’re giving this kind of stuff out to their kids?”

They were interrupted by Dewey bounding down the stairs, the med kit in his hands.

“Dewey,” Violet greeted. “Is Lena alright?”

“Yeah, she’s resting in her cabin right now. She was handling it really well, to be honest.”

“She heals fast,” Violet said.

“Are we snooping through the mermaid’s stuff?” Dewey said excitedly, rushing over to the table. “Oh, wow, that is a  _ lot _ of knives.”

“That’s what I said,” Huey mumbled. He had taken the lyre from Louie, and was examining it, seemingly fascinated by the detail.

Dewey leaned across the table and snatched up another item; this one was a necklace, with a small blue seashell pendant dangling from the cord. “Hey, guys, doesn’t this look a bit like Mom’s necklace?”

The rest of them leaned inwards, examining the pendant. Like most of the items in the bag, the detail on it was exceptional; it appeared to be ceramic, but the subtle curves and bumps within the shell made it look startlingly real.

“Yeah, it totally does,” Louie mumbled. “That’s freaky.”

Huey shrugged. “Not that freaky. I mean, Mom told us all those stories about how she met mermaids on her travels. They probably have a lot of these things.”

“I thought she was just telling us that so that we’d think she was cool,” Louie said.

Huey scoffed. “Louie!”

“What?!” Louie exclaimed. “Nobody’s seen a mermaid in  _ years. _ It seemed super fake!”

“We’ve got a mermaid on the ship  _ right now,” _ Dewey said.

“I know, it’s insane! With that and the goddamn  _ magic amulet _ Lena used like five minutes ago, I don’t know what to think anymore,” Louie lamented

“I seriously doubt Lena has a magic amulet,” Huey said, rolling his eyes.

“You weren’t there but I _swear—_ she grabbed that purple necklace thingy she always wears and trapped Webby with, like, telekinesis or something.” At Huey’s unimpressed look, Louie turned to Violet, his eyes desperate. “Violet, you saw it, right? Tell them I’m not crazy.”

“I saw her using her magic, but I can’t speak to your sanity,” Violet said casually. She ignored Louie’s betrayed look and went on. “Our old captain had many powerful magical artifacts. We stole one when we deserted; an ancient sumarian amulet that can serve as a powerful focus for magic users.”

Dewey blinked. “Seriously?”

Violet nodded.

“Wait a second,” Huey said, rubbing at his chin. “If it’s just a focus, then does that mean Lena just… has magic? Like naturally”

Suddenly, Violet found six eyes boring a hole in her face. “Uhh. Lena has… a complicated past. I’m not sure if she’d want me sharing it.”

“So that’s a yes,” Louie said, his mouth smirking upwards. “What else wouldn’t she want you to share? Just so that we know what not to ask about.”

“Is she a sorceress?” Dewey asked excitedly. “A  _ warlock?” _

“I’m  _ not _ telling you anything else,” Violet said, crossing her arms. “And don’t ask her, either. She doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Why?” Huey wondered. “Is it bad?”

“No, just personal,” Violet said. “We’ve only known each other for a few days—I imagine she’ll open up when she’s ready. But until then, I shall repeat:  _ do not ask her. _ Okay?”

“Okay. Jeez.” Louie shrugged, and began stuffing all of Webby’s stuff back in her bag. “But if she starts going all wizard in front of me again, I’m gonna say something, because that was lowkey terrifying to watch.”

Violet sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. Just… try to be tactful, and don’t get mad if she dodges the question. I’m sure there are things about her that not even I know about.” She paused, standing up from the table. “Angle the ship for Cape Suzette. It’s the closest island with a black market that I know about. We should be able to find a buyer for Webby there.”

“Got it,” Huey said. “Come on, guys, we’ll need to adjust the sails.”

“Ooh, Cape Suzette!” Dewey said happily as they ran off. “I’ve always wanted to visit!”

Violet watched them run off to the main deck, and turned to stare at where she knew the floor of Lena’s cabin was. Violet sighed, long and soft; she hoped she was doing okay.

* * *

Lena was not doing okay.

She stumbled across her cabin and grabbed a spare bowl from a shelf above her bed before folding over in half and hacking up several thick globs of pulsing shadow. She coughed a few times once she was done, black mist pouring out of her beak, and then, with a sigh of resignation, she lifted the bowl back to her mouth and swallowed the chunks of shadow back down her throat. They tasted cold and fuzzy, and she made a face as they went down, congealing back into the rest of her core.

“Fuck this,” she muttered to herself as she set the bowl back on her shelf. “Fuck blood. Stupid physical body, stupid biothaumic integration, stupid  _ pain receptors. _ Ugh. Good for nothing.”

She shrugged off her jacket and looked at the wound on her shoulder. A deep black smoke was beginning to seep out from between the blood-stained bandages Dewey had put on her as her shadows wove the skin back together underneath them. 

The advantage of being a shadow monster was that it was very easy for her to repair her physical body; the shadows that composed her essence could easily repair material wounds, and it was relatively painless. The disadvantage was that when her body lost blood, the shadows got ansty that their host was breaking down, and so they always tried to jump ship by ejecting themselves out of her face, and if she didn’t shove them back in, then her form would collapse and she’d dissipate back into the Shadow Realm.

She was more than willing to eat her own shadows if it meant she didn’t have to go back there.

There was a knock at her door, which pulled her from her thoughts and filled her with minor terror. She couldn’t have her crew see her like this. “Don’t come in!” she shouted.

“Lena? It’s just me,” came Violet’s voice.

Oh thank god. “Nevermind,” she called. “Please come in.”

The door opened and Violet entered the cabin, her footsteps slow and cautious. “I just wanted to check on you. I know how your body can react to serious injuries, so…”

“I’ve had worse,” Lena dismissed, and then she coughed. A small mass of shadows jettisoned itself from her trachea, launching across the room and nearly splatting against Violet’s face. She leaned out of the way just in time, though, and the shadows hit the wall instead.

Violet turned and looked at the bubbling black mass of darkness stuck to the wood. “You dropped something,” she said, unhelpfully.

“Yes. Thank you.” Lena groaned, flopping onto her bed. “At least it’s not as bad as the time my hand got cut off. Remember that?”

“Of course,” Violet said. “It was probably the most harrowing experience of my entire life. I thought we were all going to die.”

“Good times,” Lena said. “But yeah. This one’s not so bad.”

“You’re going to have to tell them eventually,” Violet said. “Sooner rather than later, preferably.”

“Tell them what?” Lena asked. “That I’m a bunch of shadows pulled out of another dimension by an evil pirate sorceress and stuffed into a flesh puppet that just happens to have really great hair?”

“Something along those lines.” Violet reached into her pocket and pulled out a necklace, with a small seashell charm on it. “Found this in the mermaid’s bag, by the way. The triplets say it matches a necklace their mother possesses, which she presumably got during her own encounters with mermaids. I thought you should check it for any enchantments.”

“Right.” Lena caught the necklace as Violet tossed it over, looking down at the tiny shell. “Because I know how to do that.”

“You’ve got a better shot than any of us,” Violet said. “And I doubt Webby’s going to spill her secrets anytime soon.” 

“And what if it’s just a normal necklace?”

“It’ll give you something to do instead of just coughing up shadows until your shoulder’s healed,” Violet said, walking back towards the door. “I’m going to go make sure the boys aren’t breaking everything. Good luck with… being you.”

Lena gave a dry laugh, which only served to make her spit more shadows all over the floor. Ugh, she’d have to redigest most of those if she didn’t want to lose her form, and now they were all dirty. “Thanks, Vi. I’ll catch you later.”

The door closed, and Lena groaned, once again alone. She placed a hand over her shoulder and willed the shadows under the surface of her skin to hurry it up already; she just wanted this to be over with. The smoke came faster and thicker from under her bandages as the shadows sprang into a frenzy, and she grit her teeth as they started reconnecting her nerves. “Stupid mermaid girl,” she spat. “She better be worth it.”


	5. Along for the Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby adjusts to being a prisoner. Selene has a pleasant chat with Beakley. Scrooge receives a present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is honorarily done for day 5 of the Weblena Week I'm doing, which has the theme of 'AU' and doesn't actually happen until Friday. But whatever. (Also not to shamelessly plug myself, but if you want to check out the fics I've been writing for said Weblena Week, you can find them [here.](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674511))

After a couple hours, Lena’s shoulder had healed, and her insides had finally settled down. She hadn’t figured anything out about the necklace Violet had given her, though; she could sense a faint magical signature from it, sure, but she couldn’t for the life of her determine anything specific. So once her body had been repaired and her shadows had realized they didn’t, actually, need to find a new host, Lena put on her coat to hide her healed shoulder and exited her quarters.

Huey was at the wheel reading one of Violet’s books, and gave her a cheerful salute as she passed. She rolled her eyes but returned the gesture before continuing below deck. Violet was in the galley preparing their next meal, and Louie and Dewey were sitting at the table, playing cards. Dewey appeared to be losing terribly, much to his anguish, and Louie appeared to be cheating unashamedly, much to his smug delight. 

“Lena, help,” Dewey whimpered as she stepped off the stairs. “I’ve already lost both my kidneys.”

“Uh-uh!” Louie said, shaking his head as he very clearly fudged the shuffle. “No outside assistance! And they’re  _ my _ kidneys now.”

Violet sent Lena a  _ look  _ before silently turning back to her cooking. 

“I’m just here to check up on the mermaid,” Lena said, gesturing over her shoulder towards the cargo hold at the other end of the ship. “If I scream, come save me. Otherwise, give us some space.”

“Sure thing,” Louie said. “Hmm… What say you bet your pirate hat on this next one, Dewey?”

“No! Not my hat!” Dewey exclaimed. “Anything but that!”

Louie smirked. “Anything?”

Lena decided that now would be a good time to leave, and she made her way into the cargo hold. Webby was still tied up, the knot as strong as ever, but she had managed to wriggle her way on top of one of the crates, where she sat droopily, her tail hanging over the side. 

She looked up when Lena entered the room, and her demeanor quickly soured once she caught sight of who it was. “Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” Lena agreed.

“How’s the shoulder?”

“Healed,” Lena said smugly, lifting one side of her coat to show it off. 

“What?! That’s not fair! Mermaids can’t heal that fast!”

Lena shrugged. “Maybe we’re just the better species. Who can say?”

“I’ll rip out your lungs!” Webby spat, writhing in her bonds. “I’ll carve out your spleen and shred your intestines! Heal  _ that! _ ”

“Jeez, chill out,” Lena mumbled. Part of her wanted to tell Webby that she probably  _ could  _ heal from that, actually, but decided against it. “I was kidding. You know, like a joke?”

“Is that what this is? A joke to you? Just a way to make a quick buck?” Webby narrowed her eyes. “You’re a  _ jerk.” _

“Hey, I’m not doing this for kicks,” Lena said, forehead creasing. “Besides, you tried to kill me. Don’t make me out to be the monster here.”

“Because you were going to kidnap me!” Webby argued. “I was defending myself! I have a family. Did you ever think about that? Friends that’ll miss me. If you don’t feel guilty about that, then you  _ are _ a monster.”

“Don’t talk to me about family,” Lena hissed. “Vi has a family, too, you know. But if we don’t get the money from selling you, she’ll  _ never _ get to see them again. You think I’m doing this because—because I’m  _ selfish? _ I’m doing this for  _ her. _ I don’t have a choice.” She crossed her arms. “Sometimes, the universe isn’t  _ kind _ enough to give you a choice.” 

Webby was quiet for a long moment. And then, in a soft voice, she said, “You always have a choice.”

Lena looked away. She thought of the past; she thought of Mt. Vesuvius, and the ash falling around her; of Magica’s face, of her hand, wreathed in dripping shadows; of the first time she had felt the wind in her feathers, and the first time she had felt so utterly powerless and so enchantingly free.

“Not always,” she mumbled. She shook her head, pulling the seashell necklace out from her coat pocket. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I wanted you to tell me what the enchantment on this necklace is.”

Webby frowned. “And what if I don’t want to tell you?”

“Then I’ll be pretty bummed, because I sure as hell can’t figure it out.”

“What, no threats of torture?”

“I’m not exactly the torture type.”

Webby sighed. “It’s nothing. It’s just a reinforcement enchantment so it doesn’t break. My grandmother gave it to me, so it’s important to me.”

“You’re lying,” Lena said, narrowing her eyes.

“Maybe. Are you going to torture me to find out?”

Lena huffed and shoved the pendant back into her coat. “Well, thanks for nothing, Pink.”

“You’re welcome,” Webby said. 

“Dinner’s soon. I’ll have Violet bring you your food.”

Webby giggled; not exactly what Lena had been expecting from her. “Free food, no torture… You seem awfully nice for a pirate.”

“Shut up,” Lena said. “I’m sure we’ll get nearly as much gold for a dead mermaid as a live one, so you better be careful.”

“See,  _ that’s _ more what I was expecting,” Webby said. “Except, you don’t actually mean it, so I don’t think it counts.”

Lena regarded her hollowly. “I can’t wait until we can get rid of you,” she grumbled.

Webby just shot her a smile.

* * *

“This is bad, this is bad, this is very very bad,” Selene hissed as she darted through the rivers of Mermaid Isle. It was a mantra she had been repeating to herself ever since she’d woken up; neither Webby nor the ship had been anywhere in sight, so she had done the only thing she could think of—she had swam straight to the palace. 

Storkules was outside the main doors when she got there, standing guard. “Ah, dearest sister!” he greeted. “How fare ye on this splendid day?”

“Not too great. Look, you’ve gotta let me into the palace.”

“Alas, as much as my heart balks at the thought of disappointing my very own kin, I am afraid I can do no such thing,” Storkules lamented, laying a hand solemnly over his chest. “You know as well as I do that you have been banned from the royal premises due to your past record of disruptive scorpion-related shenanigans.”

Selene groaned. “But this is really important! I  _ need _ to talk to Beakley. Can’t you make an exception?”

“I cannot,” Storkules declared. “Every day, mermaids come to me: ‘Storkules, Storkules,’ they shout, in fits of tears and melancholy; ‘Please, Storkules, grant me audience with Our Matriarch!’ And time after time, I must turn them away. O, how it  _ wrenches _ at my  _ heart, _ dear sister! But I cannot forsake my duty—not for them, and not for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great,” Selene said, waving him off with a hand. “But this is different. I need to see her.  _ Trust _ me.”

“For what reason?” Storkules asked. “Perhaps a valiant goal may sway my stance.”

Selene was about to respond when a bellow echoed out from the palace, sending waves through the water and shaking the walls. 

_ “WHERE IS MY GRANDDAUGHTER?!” _

“That reason,” Selene said flatly.

“…I see,” Storkules said, stepping aside. “Proceed, sister. And, if this is to be the last time we speak, it was a pleasure to be your brother.”

Selene huffed. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

She swam through the palace up towards Webby’s room, and ran into Beakley on the way, outside the throne room. She didn’t have her trident on her at the moment, but she was no less imposing, towering over Selene as her heavy tail sent powerful waves through the water with every twitch.

“You,” Beakley seethed. “What are you doing here? Do you have something to do with why Webby is not in her room, where she should be?”

Selene took a deep breath. “Yes.”

Beakley stilled, her face growing hard as stone. She floated there, stagnant, and her eyes pierced through Selene like a trident through flesh. “Explain.”

“I saw she was really bummed out about being grounded, so I offered to take her on a trip out to the reef north of the Isle. It was just supposed to be a harmless little swim to sate her rebellious teenage spirit, but then a ship passed overhead. I told her to hide, she got mad and knocked me unconscious, and when I woke up she was gone.”

Selene got the words out as quickly as she could, and braced herself for Beakley to scream at her, or gut her, or whatever.

“Selene,” Beakley said, her voice shaking from how heavily she was regulating it, “words cannot express how much of a disrespectful, irresponsible, dead-brained, muck-guzzling idiot you are. Here’s what’s going to happen. Are you listening?”

Selene frantically nodded.

“We are going to organize every mermaid who is able and search for Webbigail. You are going to help. And once we find her, you are  _ never _ going to see her  _ ever _ again. Are we clear?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Good,” Beakley said. “I’m going to round up my guard and the hunters. You will go to the perimeter villages and spread the word that every travel-able mermaid is to report to the Royal Courtyard at once. Go.”

Selene turned and swam out of the palace as fast as she could, feeling Beakley’s eyes on her back the whole way.

* * *

Webby waited in silent contemplation after Lena left. She didn’t entirely know what to make of her; she was doing a bad thing, clearly, by kidnapping Webby, but she was being shockingly hospitable about it. Back home, they had captured a few pirates as prisoners over the years for interrogation, before Beakley had finally accepted that Webby’s parents were never going to be found, and Webby was pretty sure they weren’t treated to polite conversation. Webby hadn’t seen any of the prisoners personally—her granny would never let her near them—but she  _ had _ heard their screams from the cages up on the shore where they were kept. Heck, her own combat training had been in much worse conditions than this! So, suffice to say, she was pleasantly surprised with her treatment so far, even if she was still totally going to kill them all and escape if given the chance.

As Lena had promised, Violet came into the hold about a half-hour later, holding a bowl of some sort of stew. 

“Are you omnivorous?” she asked, without any preamble.

“Um—technically,” Webby said. “We mostly eat meat, but we eat plants and stuff every so often too.”

“Good.” Violet set the bowl down on the crate Webby was sitting on. “As I assume you know, I can’t untie you. Do you want me to feed you?”

Webby squinted. Seriously? Why was she being so nice? This was weird. “No, I’ll… just use my face,” Webby said. “Thanks.”

Violet shrugged and turned around. “Suit yourself.”

“Why did you choose to become a pirate?” Webby asked suddenly, before Violet could leave.

She stopped at the door, and swiveled back to face Webby, shooting her a suspicious look. “Why?”

Webby shifted a bit on the crate so she was facing Violet more directly. “I don’t know. Curious, I guess. Lena vaguely mentioned something about your parents?”

Violet walked forward a couple steps, sitting down on a barrel across from Webby and flipping one leg over the other. “My village was attacked by Lena’s old pirate crew two years ago. I offered to join their crew if they spared my family’s lives. So, I wouldn’t really call it much of a choice.”

“…But you’re not with that crew anymore, right?” Webby asked. “And you’re still pirates.”

“Yeah. We’re still pirates.” Violet sighed. “Our old crew… they don’t have the best reputation. Even after deserting, if the Navy found out who we were, that would be it. We figured the best chance to escape—the best chance to get back to my family—would be to stay as pirates. My village was outside Navy jurisdiction; if we can get back there, we can finally settle down. I’m sure my dads would take in Lena.”

“I wish I could just sail off and find my parents like you,” Webby mumbled, bending her tail up against her chest. “They got kidnapped by pirates just after I was born, and we never found them. Guess it runs in the family.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Violet said.

“Are you really sorry?” Webby asked. “Aren’t mermaids just a bunch of murderous monsters to you?”

“My old captain was more murderous and more monstrous than you’ll ever be,” Violet said. “This world is full of murderers. Even the Navy kills pirates, not to mention the people that they leave to burn and die because they can’t pay. I’m not a murderer, but if someone attacks Lena like you did again, I’d sure try to become one. We’re all murderers once we have a good enough reason. That’s just the world we’re living in. And it’s why I’m going to do whatever I have to in order to keep the people I care about safe.”

“Like selling me,” Webby said.

“Think about how many more lives it would cost for us to raid enough ships to get the same amount of money you’re going to net us,” Violet reasoned. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, Webby. I know it doesn’t seem like that from where you’re sitting, but it’s true. Lena’s the same; she’s been saddled with one shitty situation after another in her life. To be honest, as much as I want to see my family again, I probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t the only way to help her out, too. We’re just fresh out of good choices.”

“You two really are a pair,” Webby said. “Lena basically said the same thing about you.”

Violet smirked. “It’s a sister thing.”

“Violet!” shouted a voice from outside. “Your food’s getting cold!”

“I should go,” Violet said, getting up.

Webby nodded. “Right. Thanks for the stew. And… I hope you find your parents.”

Violet hovered at the door, looking back over her shoulder, her face intrigued. “Me too.”

And then the door thumped shut, and Webby was alone again.

* * *

Scrooge’s eyes trembled as he stared over the prow railing. Della’s ship, the Spear of Selene, in spite of all of its previous glory, was completely wrecked. There were boards and barrels and sails all bobbing in the water alongside massive broken pieces of hull that were half-submerged under the waves. Worst of all, though, were the bodies strewn about the wreckage. 

“Wow,” Launchpad said from the wheel. “I’ve seen a lot of crashed ships in my time, but nothing like this.”

“That’s because it wasn’t a crash,” Scrooge said. “It was Magica de Spell.”

“Captain!” called Lieutenant Crackshell-Cabrera. “One of the crew down there is moving!”

“A survivor?” Scrooge murmured. “Gearloose! Now’s a good time to try out that new invention of yours.”

“Great!” said Gyro. “Fenton, go test out my invention.”

“R-right!” 

Fenton darted below deck, and came back a minute later wearing the diving suit that Gyro had been working on. He fiddled a bit with the mouthpiece, then launched himself off the ship, disappearing into the ocean. Scrooge sat back and waited, and before too much longer, Gyro threw down the ladder and hauled Fenton back onto the ship. He was carrying Della’s crewmember on his back, and unceremoniously dumped him on the deck before taking off the suit.

Fenton shook the water out of his feathers. “Wow, Gyro! That thing really works! I haven’t swam that fast since the time that shark was on my tail.”

“Another victory for nautical science,” Gyro said, taking the suit from him. “How about that, Captain?”

Scrooge wasn’t paying him any attention, however; all his focus was centered on the man groaning and sputtering at their feet. “Lad! Are you okay?” Scrooge asked. “Can you speak?”

He coughed, and a thick purple smoke poured out of his throat. “She—she did something to me, I—” He cut off into a grunt of pain. 

“Don’t worry, son, you’re gonna be alright,” Scrooge said, ignoring Gyro’s skeptical eyebrow raise at the claim. “What happened? Can you remember?”

“They—they snuck up on our broadside and boarded us. And then she—she—”

More purple smoke began pouring out of his mouth, enough that it began to coalesce into a thick standing cloud, and the man’s eyes clouded over, his limbs twitching and spasming erratically. 

“Back up,” Scrooge ordered, even as he himself moved a healthy distance away from the billowing mass of mist. 

The cloud stretched and compressed and molded itself into the shape of a person: a tall, thin woman in a cloak, to be precise. Her features grew more defined and color spread out across her form until it looked like she was truly standing right in front of him. 

“Hello, Scroogie,” she said. 

Scrooge narrowed his eyes. “Magica. If you think you’re going to get away with this, then—”

“I don’t doubt that in your idiocy, you’re going to try to talk back to this illusion, so I’ll spare you the embarrassment and tell you up front that this is prerecorded. Mmkay?” 

“She got you there,” Fenton said. Gyro elbowed him. 

Magica, of course, went on without acknowledging them. “If you’re getting this message, that means you’ve found the rotting corpses of your employees and the hunk of scrap you used to call a ship. Congrats! I left them here just for you, so I hope you enjoy them.

“I’ve got another present for you, though, if you’d be a dear and meet me over in Cape Suzette. I believe she’s a captain of yours? But you’d better come quickly—she’s an  _ excellent  _ screamer, and you know how much I struggle with self control sometimes. So if I were you, I’d hurry on over before I get carried away!” She let out a maniacal laugh. “See you soon, Scrooge! Toodles!”

The illusion exploded into smoke, and the man gasped on the deck, rolling over and breathing rapidly. “Get him to the doctor!” Scrooge barked, and Fenton hastily nodded, picking him up and running off. “Everyone, full sails! We’re headed for Cape Suzette, as fast as we can.”

Gyro coughed. “Uh, not to question your authority or anything, sir, but this is  _ clearly _ a trap.”

“Magica has been on the loose for too long,” Scrooge said. “She may have the upper hand here, but she’s made one crucial mistake.”

There was a long pause. 

Scrooge rolled his eyes. “Is nobody going to ask me what the mistake is?”

“Sorry, Captain McD,” Launchpad said. “What mistake did she make?”

Scrooge set his cane down hard against the deck. “She hurt my family.”


	6. You Could Be Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby gets to know the Sunlight pirates a bit better.

Webby awoke with a groan. Her body was aching and sore from sleeping on the floor, not to mention being tied up for so long. It could’ve been worse, though; Lena had popped in late last night and thrown a pillow at her, mumbling something about how they had a spare that they were going to put in the cargo hold anyway, and about how she was definitely not soft. Webby had thanked her, and had reassured her that she didn’t think Lena was soft at all, for sure, no way.

She sat up, flipping the pillow up against one of the crates with her tail, and leaned back against it, letting out a sigh. Day two of being captured by pirates, and she was… bored. And scared. And bored of being scared.

She let out a sigh, but stopped midway through when she noticed that the cargo hold’s door was slightly ajar, and one of the Sunlight pirates was poking his head through the crack. The red one. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he let out a small  _ Meep! _ and disappeared.

“…Hello?” Webby called. “Can I help you?”

The door opened properly this time, and he stepped into the room, clutching a notebook and a pencil to his chest. “Um… I’m Huey? I just wanted to ask you a few questions? About mermaids?”

Webby shrugged as much as she could. “Well, you have a captive audience.”

Huey stared at her for a few seconds, then let out a nervous laugh. “Oh, cause you’re—right. Haha. Ummm.” He coughed. “So can I ask you some stuff? It’s just, there’s not a lot of research on mermaids, but since you’re here, I thought I might as well, you know…”

“Sure. I’ve got nothing better to do,” Webby said. “But only if I can ask you a few questions about land dwellers. There’s not a lot of research on you guys, either.”

“Oh! An exchange of information! That sounds good,” Huey said. He hopped up on a small crate and opened his notebook, twiddling his pencil. “So, first off, what’s Mermaid Isle like?”

“It’s a small island with a lot of trees and stuff,” Webby said. “I’ve never been on the surface, actually, but there’s apparently not much to see up there. It has a lot of really deep lakes and rivers, though, which we live in. The royal grounds and the nobles live within the island, and then all the other houses and stuff are around the perimeter of the shore. The less important you are, the further out you live, basically.”

“That’s not too dissimilar from how a lot of our cities function,” Huey said, jotting notes down in his notebook. “I mean, aside from the underwater part. What about you? Where did you live?”

“Oh, you know,” Webby said, waving him off with a laugh. “Anyway, my turn. How well defended are your civilizations, on average?”

Huey looked a little caught off guard by the question, but quickly launched into his answer. “Well, it depends on whether the town’s in Navy jurisdiction. We’re from Duckburg, which has a big Navy base right in it, so it’s pretty well defended. And we’re going to Cape Suzette, which is Navy-protected, so they have a defense force too, though it’s a lot smaller. But if a town isn’t protected by the Navy then they have to rely on volunteer militia, usually. They don’t, uh, always stay on the map for super long.”

“I see,” Webby said, nodding along.

Huey turned back to his notes. “Okay, next question. You seem to be a very competent fighter for your age; is that true for all mermaids?”

Webby laughed. “Oh, no, I started combat training a bit early.”

“How early?”

“When I was three.”

Huey blinked. “Ah.”

“Yeah.” Webby laughed. “Most kids wait until they’re six or so before they start daily sparring practice, but I was a fast learner. Then when we turn ten, we get our very own tridents, and that’s when ambush practices start.”

“A-ambush practices?” Huey asked, his voice a bit weak.

“Yeah! Basically, they assign several adult warriors to try and sneak up on us in our sleep, or when we’re eating, or any time, really, and we have to always be ready to fend them off. I sent one of the royal guards to the medical reef once when he tried to attack me in the gardens! I’m proud of that one.”

“Sounds like a very… violent society,” Huey said slowly.

Webby giggled. “Yeah, I guess. It’s like the old saying goes—you’re not really friends with someone until you’ve tasted their blood in the water.”

Huey gulped. “Uh.”

“My turn!” Webby chirped. “What would you say are the land dwellers’ greatest physical and emotional weaknesses?”

“I’m thinking that maybe now would be a good place to stop,” Huey said carefully.

Webby had to fight down her laughter. “Aw, but we’ve barely even started! You didn’t even get to ask me about our diet.”

She licked her lips for effect, and Huey hastily stood up, nearly dropping his pencil. “I—I have to go,” he mumbled.

“Hey, if you’re leaving, could you grab me my lyre?” Webby asked. “I’m getting awfully bored, and some music would liven things up, don’t you think?”

“Nope! Nope, no way, bad idea. I don’t want to be enthralled. Good talk! See you later!” He scurried out of the room and slammed the door behind him. 

Once he was gone, Webby broke down into a fit of giggles. He had been fun; hopefully he’d pop in again before she was carted off to the black market or whatever. 

A couple minutes later, the door opened again, and Huey came back in. Or, wait—no, this one was wearing blue, which meant he was, er… “Dooby?”

“Dewey,” he corrected automatically, not batting an eye. Webby assumed it must happen a lot. “Hey, what did you say to Huey? He’s been curled up in the corner with his notebook ever since he talked with you.” 

“I was just telling him about mermaid stuff,” Webby said. “I think I scared him.”

Dewey nodded. “Our mom told us a bunch about her own adventures with mermaids, so Huey’s always been interested in them, but… I’m pretty sure she was sugarcoating everything. She couldn’t exactly get into gory details, since she was telling them to us as bedtime stories when we were kids. Well—when she was actually around to tell us bedtime stories, that is. She was out at sea most of the time.”

“My bedtime stories were mostly about brave mermaid girls who killed lots of land dwellers, but I think I understand,” Webby said. Then she blinked. “Wait, your mom knew mermaids?”

“Yeah. She’s a Navy captain, and she ran into them a few times,” Dewey said. “I guess I don’t really know how much of her stories were true and how much were changed so they wouldn’t traumatize us, but she apparently really hit it off with one mermaid and they became friends. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t making that up, because she always wears a necklace that looks just like the one you had in your bag. With the seashell?”

Webby gasped. “She has a pelagic key?! Who gave it to her?!”

“A what key?” Dewey asked.

“A pelagic key; if a mermaid gives one away, it’s kind of a big deal. Your mom must have really made an impression.” 

Dewey perked up. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Webby said. “It’s rare for a mermaid to be issued a key in the first place, and even then, you’re only ever given one in your lifetime. Your mom must be incredible.”

Webby didn’t really know why she was telling him all of this. He would probably just spit it all back to Lena, and that would make it easier for her to discover what the pelagic keys actually did, and that could be a serious problem. But something about the way he talked about his mother… It struck a chord with Webby. 

Maybe these pirates were just so soft that they were softening her up, too. What would her Granny say? She didn’t even want to think about it.

“She… she  _ is  _ incredible,” Dewey went on. “She goes on amazing adventures, fights bad guys, helps people… I just wish her job didn’t take up so much of her time.”

“It sounds like she made time for you when she could,” Webby said. “Better than being overbearing, if you ask me.”

“Maybe. But we only get to see her a few weeks every year. It sucks!” Dewey sighed. “I mean, I get it—you can’t predict having triplets, and raising one kid’s expensive enough already, so she couldn’t afford to take time off. At least the Navy pays okay.” 

Webby bit her lip. “Um… If your mom works for the Navy, why did you decide to join a pirate crew?”

“I’ve always wanted to go on adventures like she would tell us about,” Dewey said. “But fourteen’s way too young to enlist in the Navy, and besides, there wasn’t any guarantee that me and my brothers would get to work on the same ship. Also, I hear that entry level positions are kind of terrible anyway. But being a pirate… There’s no requirements, no tests you have to pass—just us and the open sea!”

“Couldn’t you go off sailing without being pirates, though?” Webby asked. “This seems like an unnecessarily risky option.”

“But that’s the whole point!” Dewey insisted. “There’s nothing flashy about being a fisherman or whatever. But pirates… Pirates go on  _ adventures! _ No risk, no fun.”

“I… I can relate to that, actually,” Webby said. “I kind of sort of ran away from my grandmother after she grounded me to go on an adventure. But then I got kidnapped by pirates, so I guess she was probably right to ground me.”

“I’m sorry, that really sucks,” Dewey said sympathetically. 

Webby gave him a flat look. “I’m talking about you.”

“Oh. Right.” Dewey coughed. “Yeah, that—that makes sense.” 

Webby let the awkward silence reign for a couple more seconds before she continued. “So, your mother’s in the Navy, and you’re a pirate. What happens if you run into each other? Are you going to fight her?”

“Of course not!” Dewey said. “Or, well—Lena probably wouldn’t have a choice, but… I don’t know.” He looked away. “At least I’d be able to see her.”

Oh, wow, that was sad. “Umm…” Webby shifted in her ropes. They scratched at her skin. “Well, it sounds like she loves you a lot. I would be grateful for that.”

“…Yeah. I am.” Dewey looked up. “Sorry about dumping all this stuff on you. Violet mentioned what happened with your parents, so I didn’t mean to… rub it in or anything.”

“No, I asked,” Webby said. “Besides, I never got to meet them anyway. It’s hard to really feel sad about people you don’t even know.” She paused. “It’s been nice talking with you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dewey said, standing up. “Sorry about the whole… kidnapping thing. Is there anything you need? I feel bad.”

Webby narrowed her eyes; what was up with these pirates? Pirates were supposed to be mean and nasty and greedy and rude. They  _ sucked  _ at being pirates. “Well… do you think you could bring me my lyre? I’ve been dying to play something.”

Dewey paused in contemplation. “I can ask Lena, I guess.”

“Um.” Webby swallowed. “Actually, it’s okay. Don’t bother her with it.”

“Are you sure? Because—”

“Yep! I’m sure. Forget I asked.”

“Well, okay. I’ll see you later.”

“Later!” Webby called, and with the sound of the door closing, she had the cargo hold to herself once again. 

_ He was nice, _ she thought, before immediately berating herself for sympathizing with the enemy.  _ Stay focused, Webby. _ She just had to be a little more patient.

God, these ropes were getting itchy.

* * *

Louie watched from the table, his face obscured by some random nerd book of Huey’s, as Dewey walked out of the cargo hold. First Huey had been in there, and then Dewey had gone in right after, but now,  _ finally, _ Louie could make his move. He waited until Dewey coaxed Huey out of the corner and the both of them went above deck before running across the room and slipping through the door, closing it as quietly as he could.

“Wow, the full set,” Webby said. She was lounging on a barrel, her tail fins flexing and curling against the wood. “Let’s see; you’re green, so… Gooey?”

“Look, this doesn’t have to take long,” Louie said, staring her down. “Where’s the secret mermaid treasure, and how do I get to it?”

“What? Secret mermaid treasure?” Webby raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think there’s a secret mermaid treasure?”

“Because why would your society be so isolated and hard to find if there wasn’t a secret treasure?!” Louie asked, throwing out a hand. “Look, if you really don’t know anything about how I can find a super secret treasure that your people have been safeguarding for generations that, if found, would make me very, very rich, then just say so and we can stop wasting each other’s time.”

Webby paused in thought. “Well… I might know  _ something. _ But you’d have to do me a little favor.”

Louie narrowed his eyes. “What sort of favor? Because if you think I’m loosening that knot even a  _ little—” _

“No, nothing like that, silly!” Webby said with a laugh. “I’m just bored. Do you think you could bring me my lyre? It should be in my bag.”

“What are you gonna do with it? You can’t exactly play it like that.” He gestured to the ropes around her.

“I can, actually!” she said, wiggling her tail fins. “Not as well, obviously, but mermaids have amazing control over our tails. It’ll pass the time, at least.”

Louie huffed. “Well, fine. I’ll get you your lyre, and then you tell me about the treasure. Deal?”

“Deal,” Webby said with a smile. “Thanks, Gooey!”

“Louie,” Louie said, before leaving the cargo hold. 

He snuck up the stairs and onto the main deck. They were keeping Webby’s bag in Lena’s quarters; something about making sure none of the daggers were cursed. They all had strict orders not to enter her room without her explicit permission, but Lena wasn’t the boss of him. Or—well, she kind of was, but whatever. The point was he could do what he wanted.

Fortunately for him, Lena was over in the forecastle, standing outside of the rest of their cabins and talking with Dewey about something. Violet and Huey must have been in their cabins, too, because the deck was otherwise empty. Perfect. He made sure nobody was looking his way, and then quickly opened the door to Lena’s quarters and slid on through.

After a bit of searching, he found Webby’s bag in a small chest next to Lena’s dresser. He quickly pulled out the golden lyre, and was about to make his escape when he heard voices approaching the door from outside. Thinking fast, Louie threw open Lena’s wardrobe and dodged inside, accidentally knocking a few jackets off their hangers before he pulled it shut again.

He heard the door to the cabin open and then shut again, and then Lena’s voice began speaking. “Alright; nobody should be able to hear us in here. What did you want to talk about?”

Dewey’s voice came next. “It’s about Webby.”

“What about her?”

“I don’t know, I’m just… are you sure we’re doing the right thing?”

Silence. Louie clutched the lyre to his chest and tried not to breathe too heavily.

After a moment, Dewey went on. “B-because, well—I don’t know, I was talking with her, and… She just seems like a normal girl. But with, like, less legs. She didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t… want to go through with the plan.”

“What’s your alternative?” Lena asked after a moment. “Because, trust me—I would  _ love _ to hear one. Seriously. But we  _ need _ money or we  _ starve, _ and every alternative I can think of involves doing even worse things. Do you want to raid a village? Cut down families and steal their jewelry?”

“Of course not!”

“Exactly. Me neither. At least this way, we aren’t outright killing anyone. And before you say it, yes, I know selling her off to some shady rich guy isn’t much better, but I’m doing the  _ best _ I can.” 

“What if we get real jobs?” Dewey asked. Louie heard the sound of boots on wood as they changed positions in the room. “We can free Webby, go to Cape Suzette, stay there for a while until we have enough money, and  _ then _ set out.”

“In a ship that we stole from the Navy? In a town that’s about as close as you can get to Duckburg, where we stole the boat? When three of the crewmates are the runaway sons of a Navy captain and the nephews of the dude who built the frickin’ boat? While my old pirate captain is roaming around the area, angry at me and Vi for deserting her and stealing her shit? We can’t just ‘stay there for a while,’ Dewey.”

“Okay, well, maybe we just steal from someone! At least then we wouldn’t be hurting anyone.”

Lena let out a sigh. “I mean, it’s possible, but take it from someone who was involved in a lot of theft over the years: robberies usually don’t go according to plan, and people always get hurt, be it us or them. It’s too risky.”

“I’m fine with risky!” Dewey protested. “Risky is better than cruel!”

“And that’s why you’re not the captain,” Lena said. “You’d get us all killed.”

“Webby’s—Webby’s nice, though,” Dewey said. “She’s kind and she’s funny and she’s just a kid like us and I can’t  _ do  _ this to her!”

“Dammit, Dewey, I can’t either!” There was a loud thump of a fist on wood, and the rattling of disturbed desktop trinkets. “I hate this! I hate  _ being _ this, I hate  _ feeling _ like—like  _ her, _ but I don’t know what else to  _ do!” _

“U-Um…” Dewey stammered.

A pause. 

“I need—I need to think,” Lena said. “I’ll talk with Violet. Sometime. Not right now.” She exhaled wearily. “Don’t tell your brothers about this.”

“R-right.”

Footsteps, and then a door closing. Louie waited a few minutes, but there were no more sounds from the room, so he cautiously opened the door of the dresser, finding them both gone.

“Well,” he mumbled under his breath. “That was… a lot.”

He pushed the conversation out of his head and exited Lena’s quarters as quietly as he could. Nobody was around to see him leave, and while he found Violet and Huey below deck, they were passionately arguing about the narrative purpose of the historical allusions in one of Huey’s novels that he had lent to her, and were much too absorbed in their nerdiness to notice Louie slipping back into the cargo hold. 

Webby smiled at him as he shut the door. “Did you get it?”

“As promised,” Louie said, tossing the lyre over to her. “Now spill.”

“Just a second,” Webby said. She reached down with her tail and hooked the lyre on one of her fins. The other one bent around to fiddle with the engravings.

“What are you doing?” Louie asked.

“Almost got it… there!” 

Her fin pushed a hidden switch in the metalwork, and two glinting blades shot out of the arms of the lyre. In one swift motion, Webby flicked her tail and sent the instrument rocketing up towards her face; she twisted at just the right time, though, and the blades instead sliced through the knot on her bonds. The ropes fell down to the deck in a pile as the lyre stabbed into the side of a barrel a ways off, and Webby turned to smile at Louie, her fangs shining white. “That’s better.”

“Uh oh,” Louie said, as Webby’s claws raked towards him.

* * *

Lena stood at the prow of the ship, gazing out past the bowsprit and over the waves. She let out a sigh and slumped over the railing, her sigh quickly descending into a groan. Dewey was right—she knew he was right. She’d known he was right ever since that first conversation she’d had with Webby. She’d known he was right when she’d caved last night and had given Webby a pillow in a desperate attempt to push down the guilt. But knowing he was right didn’t do shit to help her figure out what to do next. 

What kind of pirate feels bad for her prisoner? She was pathetic. She’d never last long enough on the sea for them to make it to Violet’s village. She should’ve just stayed with Magica; at least there, when she’d hurt people, she could blame it on someone else. Now she had to, what, take responsibility for her actions? That sucked. She knew she was a shitty person—not even a person, really—but she didn’t enjoy her conscious reminding her of that so frequently.

She let her forehead slip down and collide painfully with the railing. She wished she were a mermaid; then she could just launch herself off into the sea and not have to worry about any of this. 

But that wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to talk this over with Violet. If she didn’t go through with selling Webby, they would need to make sure she couldn’t take revenge on them, and they’d need to figure out another way to make money. And if she did go through with selling Webby, then… Then she still needed to talk to Vi. About a lot of things.

She walked down from the forecastle to the main deck, when she heard a few melodic plucks ring out. Lena strained her ears—was that… music? It sounded like someone was playing a string instrument from below deck. Did one of the triplets play? Probably Huey.

But then the singing started, and it was  _ definitely _ not Huey.

_ “Pretty little seashell, haunting the sea… What sort of grand adventures could you give to me?” _

“What the hell?” Lena mumbled. Was that Webby? What was going on?

_ “Pretty little seashell, taking what’s mine… Beware that there’s a side to me that isn’t so kind.” _

Lena drew her cutlass and approached the stairs that led below deck. The notes from the lyre rang out beautifully, resonating with the ship’s wood. 

“Violet? Are you hearing this?” Lena called. But she was only answered by the lyre. “Vi?”

_ “Pretty little seashell, thrown to the wind,” _ the voice started up again.  _ “Is this ship where you end or where you begin?” _

Lena took a deep breath and moved down the stairs, turning towards the cargo hold where the singing was coming from. The door was wide open, but she couldn’t see inside just yet.

_ “Pretty little seashell, misunderstood… Or maybe I’m a fool to think you could be good.” _

Lena threw open the door to the cargo hold and froze. Webby was sitting on a crate, her fingers plucking away at an ornate golden lyre that was sporting two nasty-looking blades from the top, and the ropes that had once bound her lay cleanly cut around her curled-up tail. Violet, Huey, Dewey, and Louie were all lying prone on the ground, their eyes wide and unseeing. 

Webby stopped playing. “Hey, Lena.”

“What did you do to them?” Lena demanded, taking a menacing step forward.

“My claws can inject a neurotoxin into the bloodstream that induces short-term paralysis,” Webby said. “Don’t worry, it’s non-lethal. But this isn’t.”

She dropped her lyre, and, balancing on her hands, caught it dexterously with one of her tail fins, holding it so that one of the blades was an inch above the back of Violet’s neck.

“Fine!” Lena shouted, sheathing her sword and throwing up her hands. “Fine. We’ll let you go. Just don’t hurt her.”

Webby sighed and looked away, but didn’t move her tail, or the deadly lyre it held. “Even if you threw me back into the ocean, I wouldn’t know which way to swim. I’ve never been this far from home before.”

“Then what do you want?” Lena asked. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t manage to look away from where the blade was hanging over Violet’s neck. If she could just use her amulet, she’d be able to restrain Webby, but in the time it would take for her to build up the magic, Webby could easily bring down the lyre; she couldn’t risk it. “We could sail you back there, but you’d have to ensure our safety.”

Webby made a face. “Ooh, that would be… tricky… Um. I know this is strange since you just kidnapped me and all, but after talking with you guys these past few days, I—how do I put this…” She sighed. “Look. The whole reason I took the risk to come up to your ship and introduce myself was because I was hoping that maybe I could have fun sailing around with a fun bunch of land dwellers. And so… maybe I could still get that.”

Lena’s mouth hung open. “You… You want to stay?”

“Yes!” Webby said. “But not as a prisoner. I want to join your crew.”

“I… what?” Lena blinked. “You’re threatening Violet’s life to join our crew?” 

“I needed you to listen!” Webby insisted, flicking her tail and throwing her lyre back into her arms. The hidden blades retracted, and Lena let out a breath. 

“But… we kidnapped you,” Lena said. Part of Lena was  _ screaming _ that this was a trap, but, somehow, she knew it wasn’t. Besides; Webby seemed more like the ‘claw your eyes out’ type rather than the ‘elaborate trap’ type. “You should  _ hate _ us.” 

“Maybe. I’ve never been very good at doing the things people think I should do,” Webby said. “Look, I know we got off on the wrong foot, but what’s a friendship without a few bloody scales, right? That’s what Granny always says. What do you say?”

“I… sure. Why not?” She threw her hands up into the air. “You seem cool. I was debating letting you go anyway, so you may as well join our crew, I guess?”

“Wow! Nobody’s called me cool before,” Webby mumbled. “Oh! But you’re going to have to  _ promise _ not to betray me or anything.”

“And you’re going to have to promise not to kill me or my friends with your deadly mermaid biology,” Lena said.

Webby giggled. “I can agree to that.” She held out her hand, and Lena took it in a firm shake.

“Well.” Lena shrugged, and gave Webby a small smile as she took her hand back. “Glad to have you on board, then, Pink.”

Webby beamed at her. “I never thought I’d get to be a real pirate! Can I wear one of those cool hats Dewey had?”

Lena gave her an impossibly flat look. “No.”

“Lena?” 

Lena and Webby both jumped, turning their eyes to the ground, where Violet was groggily pushing herself up onto her knees. 

“Lena, the mermaid—she escaped somehow, and—” She stopped when she noticed that Webby was still sitting there, a couple feet away. “You! What do you think you’re doing?!”

Violet reached down to draw her sword. Webby let out a gasp and pushed off the crate she was sitting on with one hand, the other shooting out and pricking Violet in the forehead with one claw. Violet swayed, groaned, and toppled back down to the floor, and Webby landed deftly in a handstand.

“Webby!” Lena chastised. “What did I just say about deadly mermaid biology?!”

She at least had the decency to look remorseful. “Sorry! I panicked!” She walked on her hands back over to her crate and flipped up onto it, grabbing her lyre again. “I hope she’s not too mad when she wakes up again…”

Lena dragged her hands down her face. “Ugh… This might be harder than I thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> I'm taking a break from posting next week to get my writing reserves back up and running, but I'll be back on the fifteenth as normal, so see you then!


	7. Misunderstood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penumbra has a conversation with the prisoner. The Sunlight Pirates adjust to the newest member of their crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said I was gonna take a break this week but season 3 hype got me into a writing mood so, uh, nevermind? I might take a break next week or I may not, I don't know. My motivation is being really unpredictable right now, but in a good way, so I'm optimistic!

Penumbra’s boots thudded down the stairs to the orlop deck, the routy shouts of Lunaris and Glomgold’s card game fading into the background. She moved towards the ship’s brig, walking inside and stopping just outside the first cell. The prisoner was curled up against the far corner of the tiny room, her leg bent up towards her stomach, her head resting harshly against the wall. Her eyes fluttered open as Penumbra approached, and she broke into a smile.

Penumbra still didn’t understand how she could smile like that down here.

“Penny! So good to see you,” Della exclaimed, splaying out her arms like she was expecting a hug or something. “Can I call you Penny?”

“No,” Penumbra said icily. “No you can’t.”

“So what brings you here, Penny?”

Penumbra let out a groan, but didn’t push the issue further. “Dinner time.”

She slid the bowl of… whatever this stuff was through the little window in the cell. Della did a sort of half-walk-half-crawl across the floor to the bowl. “Mmm. Weird sludge,” she said fondly. “How did you know what I was in the mood for?”

“Stop trying to socialize with me,” Penumbra said, crossing her arms.

“I mean, seriously,” Della said. “I know I’m like, your prisoner and all, but would it kill you to make better food once in a while?”

Penumbra sighed. “What we’re eating isn’t much better. We used to have this little twerp that did all of our cooking for us, but she kind of bailed on us, along with this other little twerp. So now Magica just has Beaks’ shadow doing all the cooking? Anyway, yeah, he sucks at cooking.”

“Oh, wow,” Della mumbled through a spoonful of lightly-salted sludge. “That really sucks. Why’d they leave?”

Penumbra tried to keep her expression neutral. “They weren’t exactly here by choice. Or, well—” She paused, then fixed Della with a hard look. “I see what you’re doing! I’m not telling you anything!”

“Yeah, it’d be a real shame if I knew all of Magica’s secrets when I inevitably break out of this prison with my bear hands, fight my way past your crew, throw myself into the ocean, and swim back to Duckburg, all while missing a leg,” Della said. “Look, I’m not trying anything here. I’m just bored. And you seem bored too; don’t lie to me.”

Penumbra rolled her eyes. “I actually have a lot of things I need to do to keep this ship running, especially ever since Lena and Violet left.”

“I’ll bet Magica’s pretty mad about that,” Della said. “Is she looking for them?”

“Oh, she’s pissed. I’ve been staying out of her way more than usual.” Penumbra shrugged. “Hopefully, this plan of hers to kill Scrooge works out alright. I don’t want to be near her if she fails.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Della said matter-of-factly. “Scrooge does a lot of things, but dying isn’t exactly one of them. Maybe you should consider going the way of Lena and Violet. You know?”

“I can’t leave Lunaris behind,” Penumbra said, turning away. She kept her arms crossed, but felt her shoulders hunch up into her a little.

“Lunaris…” Della tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “You’ve mentioned him before. He’s important to you?”

“Yeah. I basically owe him…  _ everything,” _ Penumbra said.

“Including being stuck on a ship with a magical madwoman who could snap at any second?”

“That’s—” Penumbra flinched. “She pays very well. Lunaris is just looking out for me. For… us.”

“Do you think that if you told him, he’d help you figure out a way you two could leave together?” Della asked.

“I doubt he’d go for that.”

“Then I’m not sure he’s actually looking out for you all that much.”

Penumbra let out a long exhalation, closing her eyes for a moment. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing here. You want me to bail so Magica’s forces are weaker.”

“Whaaaaaaaaaaat?” Della laughed nervously. “No way! Come on, Penny, how could you throw such an accusation at me? We’re friends! Friends look out for each other.”

Penumbra gave her a hard look.

“Okay so  _ maybe _ there are some side benefits for me,” Della admitted. “But my point still stands.” Suddenly, the chipper demeanor that Della seemed to radiate fizzled out like a doused flame, and she looked up into Penumbra’s eyes with a magnetic intensity. “Seriously, Penny. Those kids had the right idea. Get out while you still can.”

“What—” Penumbra blinked and took a step back. “What about you?”

And just as quickly as it had vanished, Della’s smile returned. “Aw, Penny! You  _ do _ care!”

“That’s it,” Penumbra said, shaking her head and turning away from the cell, her thoughts a maelstrom. “I’m leaving.”

“Wait no Penny one more thing! Penny wait! Penyyyyyy!”

“It’s  _ Penumbra!” _ she hissed, before slamming the door to the brig closed.

* * *

Della slumped back down the floor of her cell as Penumbra walked out. That had gone well! That had gone really well.

“I haven’t given up on you, boys,” she mumbled to herself. “Just had to take a little detour first.”

She let out a breath and pulled her pelagic key out from under her shirt, twisting it in her fingers. It tingled with energy, spreading a relaxing, cool feeling across her skin.

Just a little bit longer.

* * *

Lena hefted the fishnet bag onto the dining room table, and Webby quickly grabbed it, slinging it over one shoulder.

“That’s all your knives and stuff,” Lena said. Then she reached into her jacket pocket, taking out the seashell necklace and handing it over to Webby. “And here’s this. Never did figure out what it is, by the way.”

“It’s called a pelagic key,” Webby said, taking the necklace and stuffing it in her bag. “It’s given out to mermaids who earn it through great feats of service, and then they in turn can give it away to a land dweller. But that’s… a big deal.”

“What does it do?” Lena asked.

Webby looked uncomfortably off to the side. “Sorry, but… I’m not supposed to tell you unless I choose to give it to you.”

Lena shrugged. “That’s fair. Secrets are secrets. But, great feat of service, huh? I thought mermaids weren’t really going out and doing that kind of thing anymore.”

“No, we aren’t,” Webby admitted. “I didn’t actually earn this, really. I get a few special privileges as heiress to the throne and all that.”

“Shut up,” Lena said immediately.  _ “What?!” _

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t tell you that,” Webby mused. “Sorry, I’m used to everyone kind of knowing? But yeah, my Granny’s the Matriarch.”

Lena stared at the table, unseeing. “Oh, we’re  _ fucked, _ aren’t we? We kidnapped the  _ heiress to the mermaids.” _

“Um.” Webby giggled nervously. “Yeah, so, if she finds us, maybe let me do the talking? She can get a bit… stabby, sometimes.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Lena mumbled.

Just then, the door to the cargo hold burst open, and Violet and the triplets stumbled out, looking a bit out of it. Probably from the neurotoxins wearing off.

Violet met Lena’s eyes with a gasp. “Lena! Thank god you’re okay, Webby escaped and… we… um.” She paused, staring at Webby, sitting calmly next to Lena. “I’m getting the distinct feeling that we missed something.”

Lena coughed. “So, change of plans, everyone. Webby’s joining our crew now.”

“Hi guys!” Webby said cheerily, giving them a wave.

Louie blinked. “What?”

“Aw, sweet!” Dewey shouted, running over and high-fiving Webby’s waving hand. “This is so cool! I’m on a pirate crew with a  _ mermaid!” _

“Okay, wait, no, hold up,” Huey said, waving his hands in front of him. “Can we take a vote? I think we should take a vote.”

Louie just blinked again. “…What?”

Lena ignored the three of them for the most part, though, and turned to look at Violet. She was regarding Webby with a reserved expression, but she met Lena’s eyes after a few seconds. She sighed and gave Lena a tight smile before turning and walking up the stairs.

“C’mon guys, this is so cool!” Dewey said to his brothers.

“She’s  _ terrifying,”  _ Huey said. “She  _ paralyzed _ us.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. Extenuating circumstances and all.” Webby laughed nervously, rubbing at the back of her neck with her claws. “Wait, Lena, where are you going?”

Lena paused, halfway to the stairs. “I’ll… be right back,” she said. “Try not to traumatize Huey too much while I’m gone.”

“I’m not  _ traumatized, _ I just think she’s going to eat us in our sleep!”

“Psh,” Webby said, rolling her eyes. “If I had wanted to eat you, I would’ve done it already. It doesn’t take that long.”

“That’s not very reassuring!”

Lena left them to their bickering and stepped out onto the main deck. Violet hadn’t gone very far; she was leaning over the port-side railing, her hair rolling in the wind. Lena walked up next to her, resting her elbows on the wood and her chin in her palms.

“Hey,” Violet said, without moving her gaze away from the horizon. “Here to check on me?”

“Caring is an unfortunate side effect of being a sister,” Lena said.

“Hmm. I think caring is just an unfortunate side effect of being Lena.” Violet sighed. “Part of me knew this was going to happen. You’re too much of a good person to go through with it.”

“Yeah?” Lena asked. “And you’re not?”

“I guess I was just hoping that we’d be able to push each other through it and then never think about it again. But, no, you’re right. I’m honestly mostly relieved.”

“I, too, enjoy staring forlornly out across the ocean when I’m relieved.”

_ “You _ stare forlornly out across the ocean constantly because you, and I quote, ‘think it’s pretty.’”

“Bite me,” Lena said. “But seriously. What’s up?”

She shrugged. “Just the old paradox of life. We either do the wrong thing to survive, or do the right thing and suffer for it. It’s like the world is a well-oiled machine designed to forcibly twist our moralities and pit us against each other.”

“That’s some deep shit,” Lena said. “But yeah. I get what you mean.”

“It just—when I saw you and Webby hanging out at the table, and realized what was happening, it all just kind of  _ hit. _ What we were going to do to her. How strongly I was justifying it. Ripping one girl away from her family just so I could see mine. And there’s still a voice in the back of my head that’s saying it would’ve been the right idea.” She let out a breath. “Sometimes I wonder how Magica does it.”

“What, how she manages to be such a shamelessly evil old bitch all the time?” Lena gave a dry chuckle. “That’s a good question. It’s honestly more impressive than all her magic tricks.”

“How are you doing?” Violet asked, finally turning away from the water to look at Lena. “With all of this.”

Lena let out a hum. “I’m alright. Webby doesn’t seem to be mad at me or anything, so I’m gonna try my best not to get hung up being mad at myself. God knows I'm good enough at that already.” She stretched out her arms and turned around, leaning backwards against the railing. “We should probably head back down and try to brainstorm a new plan.”

Violet tapped her fingers against the railing, but didn’t say anything. 

Lena laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. We’ll think of something. I’m not quitting until we get you back home. I don’t care how hard I have to fight—I will  _ be _ the wrench in that well-oiled world machine.”

Violet smiled up at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll get through this. Together.”

“Together,” Violet said. 

She reached over and pulled Lena into a hug. Lena made a face. “Vi, I think I’ve told you before that I’m not much of a hugger, so—”

“Shut up, Lena,” Violet said softly. “It’s an unfortunate side effect of being a sister.”

Lena scoffed, and returned Violet’s embrace. “Nerd.”

* * *

Webby held the back of her chair in a white-knuckled grip, her elbows locked tight as she balanced upside-down. Her tail twitched back and forth every so often to reset her equilibrium, and her tail fins were wrapped around one of her daggers. 

“Ready!” she called.

A small, crumpled-up ball of paper flew in from the side of her field of vision, and Webby whipped her tail forward. The dagger shot out like a bullet from a pistol, spearing the ball of paper and sticking into the wooden boards of the ship’s hull.

“Ha-HA!” Webby shouted, shifting her weight onto one arm so she could pump a fist. “Take that, paper!”

“Nice shot!” Dewey said.

“Okay, gotta admit, that was pretty sick,” Louie acknowledged.

“Does _nobody_ else find this concerning?” Huey asked, splaying out a hand. “She can throw a dagger more accurately with her _tail_ than I can with my hands!”

“I know,” Louie said with a smirk, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “That’s why I’m glad she’s on our side.”

“I guess,” Huey mumbled.

“Hey Huey!” Webby called, twisting on the chair to face him. “Want me to help you practice your dagger-catching skills?”

“No! No I’m good thanks!” Huey said, running over to hide behind Louie.

“She’s messing with you, idiot,” Louie said over his shoulder.

“Webby, stop terrorizing Huey,” Lena said. All eyes turned to her as she descended the stairs, Violet a couple steps behind her. “Huey, stop being so easily terrorized.”

“But there are so many ways she could kill me!” he protested. “Which I’ll admit is fascinating biologically but that’s not the point right now!”

“Right now, we should be focusing on revising our plan,” Violet said. She and Lena took seats at the table, and Webby flopped down into her chair, wrapping her tail under her. “Obviously, we aren’t going to be selling Webby now, so we’ll need another way to make money.”

“Let’s see… What are good, morally sound ways of making a lot of money very quickly?” Huey wondered aloud.

“Steal from snobby rich people,” Dewey suggested. “Or steal from evil pirates. Steal from snobby rich evil pirates?”

“Stealing from pirates is a capital-B bad idea,” Lena said. “They hold grudges like you wouldn’t believe, and I’d like to avoid getting into a fight with a bunch of pirates if we can help it.”

“But straight-up robbing someone’s mansion is going to be hard, too,” Huey reasoned. “We’re not trained in infiltration or anything. I’m not sure how we’d get past the security.”

“I’m trained in infiltration!” Webby chirped. “And exfiltration. Just, all the trations.”

“Lena and I also have some experience with theft, but not as much as I would like,” Violet admitted. “In order to secure enough funds, our target would have to be  _ very  _ rich; it would be hard to even carry out everything we would need, much less collect it efficiently and quickly without alerting the security that such a high-profile target would be employing.”

“It’d be different if they had like, a vault, or a big chest of money we could just grab and run off with,” Lena said. “But unless you all have detailed floor plans of some rich guy’s house, it’s unlikely.”

“Oooh! Idea!” Louie said, jumping up and leaning excitedly over the table. “Let’s do a con!”

“Oh, here we go,” Huey mumbled.

“Hear me out, okay? So what if we  _ pretend _ to sell Webby so we get the money we need, and then we just break her out? Or she breaks herself out, with those exfiltration skills she was talking about? We do the initial deal fair and square, and then once we’re far enough away that they can’t track us and the money down again, Webby busts out and meets back up with us. If we really ham up how feral and murderous she is, nobody would suspect that we’re actually working together!”

“I’m not  _ feral,”  _ Webby said. Then she frowned, turning concernedly to Dewey. “Am I feral?”

“Eh,” Dewey said, making a non committal hand gesture.

Lena and Violet exchanged looks. “That… could work,” Violet mumbled.

Lena turned to Webby. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Heck yeah!” Webby said, bouncing a little in her chair. “Getting purposefully captured and taken into enemy territory, only to perform a daring escape? Can you say  _ best night ever?!” _

“We’ll need to make contingency plans and figure out how to vet our buyer, but… no, yeah, this could actually work,” Lena said.

“Louie strikes again,” Louie said proudly.

“Ohh, I can’t wait!” Dewey said. “This is exactly the kind of valorous plot that befits the equally valorous pirate, Dewey Duck, and his faithful crew!”

“We can work out the details later,” Lena said, walking over to the wall and plucking out the knife that Webby had stuck there. She tossed it up into the air, sending it spinning over Webby’s head. Webby broke into a determined grin, and flipped back up onto her hands, expertly catching the dagger mid-spin with her fins.

“For now,” Lena continued, “what do you say we celebrate the addition of the newest member of our crew?”

The sunlight pirates descended into cheers and whoops, one of which quickly morphed into a panicked yelp as Webby sent the dagger flying right past the side of Huey’s head.

“Stop  _ doing _ that!” Huey pouted.

Webby giggled, giving Louie a high five. She had a feeling she was going to like it here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to Night_Rise on the last chapter for totally calling what their plan was gonna be lmao. Thanks for reading and I'll see you in the next one!


	8. Maybe I'm a Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Webby settles into life as a member Sunlight pirates. Lena has an unsettling epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter used to be a small, fluffy scene, and now it is a large and still very fluffy entire chapter. Does this fuck up the pacing? Maybe a little. Is it worth it? I hope so.

Hours later, several empty mugs and plates lay forgotten at the dining table, a sprawling mass of playing cards decorating the wood from a long-completed game. A series of daggers stuck out from the inside of the hull, arranged expertly in the shape of a happy face, complete with a little bow on the side of its head. 

There was a soft  _ shunk _ as Lena wrenched one of the daggers out of the wall, accompanied by a clatter of ceramics as Violet cleaned off the table.

“Noooo!” Webby protested, from where she was laying on the table. “You plucked out her eye!”

Lena shot a glance over her shoulder, then removed the dagger that represented the smiley face’s other eye.

Webby let out a whine, even as Violet unceremoniously rolled her over to collect her plate. “My beautiful artwork…”

“It’s wonderful art, Webby, but I’m not going to keep a couple dozen daggers lodged into the wall,” Lena explained. “Shouldn’t you be heading to bed? The triplets already did.”

“Yeah, well, they’re lame,” Webby said, flopping over to another part of the table and beginning to collect up all of the cards. “No Granny, no curfew—I can stay up all night! I’m not tired at all!”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she let out a monstrous yawn, which was honestly a little bit terrifying when her mouth was full of fangs sharp enough to cut through bone. 

“Not tired at all, huh?” Lena said with a smirk as she yanked another dagger out of the wall.

Webby went a little red, and sat up on the table, her tail sweeping up the loose cards into a pile. “That was—shut up. It was a waking-up sort of yawn. Because we’re only just getting started!”

“Speak for yourself,” Violet mumbled, taking all the dishes back into the galley. “I’m going to wash these, and then I’m going to go to bed.”

“But we’ve been having so much fun!” Webby exclaimed. “We should keep doing that. You guys are way better at having fun than all the guards Granny assigned to babysit me over the years. Well, except Selene—Selene was cool. But then Granny thought she was too cool, so she was banned from the palace. Too cool for, uh, school, I guess…” She let out another yawn.

Lena smirked; Webby seemed to get rambly when she was tired. It was cute. “Yeah? Well, I hope  _ we’re  _ not too cool for your grandma.”

“Oh, you guys are  _ way _ too cool for her,” Webby drawled. “You’re daring and adventurous and pretty and you’ve got cool hair and you can do magic which is awesome. I don’t think Granny would like any of that.”

Violet shot Lena a raised eyebrow as she dunked a plate into a barrel of water and started scrubbing.  _ Pretty? _ she mouthed.

Lena elected to ignore her.

“So, hypothetically, where would I be sleeping?” Webby went on. “Not because I’m tired. Just for reference. I mean, I guess the cargo hold would be fine with a few blankets in addition to that spare pillow you gave me.”

“Spare pillow, huh?” Violet asked.

Lena served her sister a quick glare before turning back to Webby. “You’re not sleeping in the cargo hold any more. That was only because we needed a room we wouldn’t be using much.”

Webby let out a breath. “Okay, good. I just didn’t want to impose.”

“There is the issue of the ship only having four crew cabins,” Violet said. “Cutters like these were designed for quick deployment to facilitate skirmishing and recon. They weren’t meant to host much of a crew.”

Webby shrugged, rubbing at her eyes. “Well. I’m sure we can rig something up? Or I’ll just sleep on the floor again. It wasn’t  _ that _ bad.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” Lena said quickly. “Maybe there’s a spare hammock we could set up somewhere?”

“Good luck with that,” Violet said, stacking the final plate on the rack to dry and moving on to the mugs. “I’m practically falling asleep as we speak, so I’ll have to pass.”

“Yeah, I’m beat too,” Lena groaned, dumping an armful of daggers into Webby’s bag, which was sitting on one of the chairs. She really did have a lot of these things.

“It’s really okay,” Webby assured. “I can do another night on the floor until we come up with something more permanent.”

“No that’s—that’s stupid,” Lena said. “I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed in my quarters.” 

“I don’t want to take your bed!” Webby protested. “I’d feel terrible!”

“Well I’d feel terrible if you slept on the floor!” Lena shot back. “Just take the stupid bed! It’s nice and big! Way comfier than the crew hammocks anyway!”

“Oh, well if it’s  _ soooooo biiiiiig,”  _ Webby mocked, rolling her eyes in exasperation, “why don’t we just  _ share _ the stupid thing?!”

“God!” Lena shouted, throwing up her hands. “Fine!”

“…What just happened?” Violet asked, looking between the two of them.

“She’s not letting me sleep on the floor so now I have to sleep with a  _ fish _ flopping around on me all night,” Lena said, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, well, because  _ you _ won’t let  _ me _ sleep on the floor, now I’m gonna have to deal with, like, your weird opposable legs kicking out at me and stuff,” Webby pouted. “And I’m not a fish! I’m  _ amphibious.” _

Violet just shook her head, drying off her hands. “Okay. I’m going to sleep. Have fun cuddling.”

“We  _ will!” _ Webby said aggressively as Violet walked past them and ascended the stairs, her affect as neutral as ever.

Lena looked at the wall; half of the daggers were still there, sticking out of the wood in a shape that no longer resembled a smiley face at all. It looked kind of like an ear, maybe, if she squinted? Well, whatever. She was  _ so _ over this. She grabbed her amulet from under her shirt, summoned her magic, and wrenched all the daggers out of the wall at once, tossing them into Webby’s bag. 

“There,” she said. “Now we can go to bed. Come on.”

Webby, who was gazing at Lena in awe, blinked a few times before stuttering out “R-right!” and jumping off the table, landing on her hands. Lena led them up the stairs to the main deck and then over to the Captain’s quarters, holding the door open for Webby, who was handstand-walking a few paces behind her. 

Webby slid her trident out from her back and dropped it against the wall, then flipped up onto Lena’s bed, sprawling across the blankets. “Wow! You were right, it  _ is _ comfy,” she said. “I mean. Not as comfy as my bed at home. But that thing is almost  _ too _ comfy, you know?”

“Honestly, I could go for ‘too comfy’ right about now,” Lena said, pulling the shutters over the windows before joining Webby on the bed. They shifted around a bit to get under the covers; her bed was bigger than a hammock, sure, but it still wasn’t actually meant for two people. They were both smallish, though—Webby especially—and they managed to settle in comfortably without encroaching on each others’ personal space all too much.

It wasn’t long before Webby spoke up again. Lena felt like she should’ve been a bit annoyed—she was very, very tired after all—but for some reason it didn’t bother her. She was probably just happy to be in bed at this point. 

“So… that amulet lets you do magic?” Webby asked.

“…Yeah,” Lena said softly, after a moment. “Stole it from my old captain.”

“What does it feel like? To do magic.”

“Um—” Lena started, then paused, her brow creasing. She’d never really thought about that before. “It feels… like a wave crashing through your body, bursting to get out into the world. It feels like your blood suddenly gets really heavy and rushes out towards your hand before jumping out. Like a… like a fire that starts deep in your chest, and then explodes, billowing through you and licking at your skin from the inside.”

“Sounds like a lot of different things,” Webby said.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard to describe.”

“No, no! Sorry, I think you did a great job,” Webby assured. “Sometimes there are a lot of ways to describe something. And sometimes they’re a little self contradictory, but I think that just means the thing is beautiful. Like you!”

Lena was glad it was dark, with how bright her face must have been. “Wh-what?”

“I think there are a lot of ways to describe you,” Webby clarified.

“O-oh. I thought you meant—nevermind.” Lena coughed. “How would you describe me, then?”

Webby let out a hum, rolling over onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. Her movements caused the sheets to glide across Lena’s body, bringing a satisfying coolness as the sections unmarred by her body heat brushed up against her skin. 

“I think I would describe you as dangerous,” Webby started, “but also kind. I’d say that you’re very determined, but I think you’re also lost, in a way. And you’re untouchable and you’re vulnerable, and you’re elegant and you’re crass, and you’re inexhaustible, but you’re exhausted.” 

“Webby, I’m gonna be real with you,” Lena said, once she was sure Webby was done. “I don’t really know what half of that is supposed to mean.”

Webby laughed a little. “Yeah. Me neither, I guess. Maybe I just need to go to bed. But it feels right.”

“I think I’m still learning whether or not I should always trust what feels right,” Lena mumbled.

“Does sleeping in the same bed as a mermaid who could eat you in your sleep feel right?”

Lena closed her eyes, and felt the shadows inside of her shift and churn, throbbing with the ever-present magic that kept her stable. “I’m not sure I would taste as good as you might expect,” she said dryly. “But yeah. It feels right.”

“I’m glad.”

“…Does it feel right to you?” Lena asked. 

The only response she got was Webby’s shallow breathing. They didn’t speak any more that night, and it wasn’t long before sleep overtook Lena as well.

* * *

Muted sunlight pounded against Webby’s eyelids like a battering ram. She let out a small groan and shifted on her bed, but felt something holding her in place. Immediately, her eyes snapped open, wide awake. Where was she? This wasn’t her—

Right.

She stared at Lena, who was still sleeping deeply next to her, and, much to Webby’s inconvenience, wrapping her limbs tightly around Webby’s body like some sort of octopus.

“Um,” Webby mumbled as she tried to wriggle out of Lena’s grasp and off the bed. Lena murmured something unintelligible at the movement, and tightened her arms; Webby let out a squawk as she was involuntarily pulled inwards, her face getting buried into Lena’s neck. 

“Guess someone likes sleeping with a fish flopping around on her all night more than she expected,” Webby said bitterly. “Lena! Wake up!”

Lena groaned again in her sleep and stirred, but her eyes remained firmly closed, and her arms stayed locked in their vice grip around Webby.

She let out a frustrated grumble. “Lena, if you don’t wake up, I  _ swear to god _ I’ll bite you.”

About thirty more seconds of fruitless struggling passed before Webby rolled her eyes and clamped her fangs down lightly on the side of Lena’s cheek. Not enough to pierce her skin, but certainly enough to hurt.

“Ow! Fuck!” Lena cursed, her hand shooting to her cheek. Her eyes blinked rapidly against the light, and finally settled on Webby. “Wh—Webby? Did you  _ bite _ me?”

“I needed you to wake up,” Webby said flatly. “Do you think you could let go of me now?”

“Let go of—” Lena’s eyes looked down at Webby, and the way she was ensnared by Lena’s limbs. Webby watched as Lena’s face steadily grew redder. “Uhhhhhh, so, this, um—this is just how all land-dwellers sleep, just so you know, it doesn’t mean, like, anything special, or, uh, well—”

She finally decided to just stop talking, taking her arms out from around Webby and moving them to cover her red-hot face. Webby rolled out of the bed, falling onto her tail on the floor. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Lena said, muffled through her hands. “Hey, crazy idea that just popped into my head—let’s never talk about that again.”

Webby giggled a little despite herself. “Sure.”

She grabbed her trident from where she’d left it by the bed and slung it over her back, then maneuvered over to the cabin door. She stretched up to grab the handle and gave it a firm twist, rolling through the doorway and out onto the main deck. It was crowded; Dewey was up in the rigging, working with Louie on the ground to position the sails, while Violet and Huey were over by the wheel, arguing about what was either the ship’s navigational course, or abstract philosophy. Webby couldn’t quite tell which.

“Wait, just a second, Hubert,” Violet said when she noticed Webby. “Webbigail. How are you?”

“I’m good!” Webby said.

“Sleep well?” Violet asked.

Webby looked at her suspiciously. “…Yes?”

“Mmm. I would imagine so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Violet shrugged, clearly not planning to elaborate, and Huey looked like he had no clue what was happening, so she decided to just drop it. “Do you guys need any help with the ship?”

“How much do you actually  _ know _ about ship maintenance?” Louie asked from off to the side. “Isn’t this the first time you’ve even been on one?”

“Well… yes,” Webby admitted. “But I’d still like to help!”

Huey hummed. “I think Louie and Dewey can handle the sails, and I’ve got the helm, so you could, uh…” He frowned. “What are you good at?”

“Fighting,” Webby said immediately. 

“Uh, what about hunting?” Huey suggested, turning to Violet. “I don’t know how we’re doing on food…”

“We’re doing alright, all things considered, but I would never turn down some fresh fish.”

“Oh, I’m  _ great _ at hunting!” Webby said, jumping up on her hands and walking over towards the edge of the ship. “I’m gonna catch so many fish, it’ll blow your scales off!”

“We don’t have scales,” Violet pointed out.

Huey raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean socks?”

“What are socks?” Webby asked, before shaking her head. “Doesn’t matter! Going now!”

She pushed off of the deck and flipped through the air, soaring over the railing and plummeting downwards. She extended her arms above her head just before she crashed through the water, the smooth currents rushing over her body and seeping between her scales with a familiar coolness. 

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed the water. She had plenty of freedom to enjoy it now, though, and let out a laugh as she flipped and corkscrewed through the ocean, her powerful tail molding the currents to her will. She unslung her trident as she danced through the waves, and, approaching a small school of snappers, struck out with blinding speed and fatal precision. Her initial attack speared two of the fish at once, sending the others into a panic; she quickly let go of her weapon and threw her arms out to either side, her claws easily capturing two more of the fish as they frantically swam past her. She caught her falling trident with her tail, and at the same time, quickly drove her thumb talons through the heads of the fish in her hands—as painless of a death as she could offer them. She rolled over in the water and slid all of her catches onto the middle prong of one end of her trident, then flipped the weapon over so the empty side was facing forward before taking off once more through the water

She was just picking out her next target when a burst of color in the corner of her vision caught her eye. With a flick of her tail, she stalled herself in the water, twisting around to get a better look.

She let out a gasp. Sprouting out from the floor of the ocean was a patch of brightly-colored weeds, in all shades of the rainbow. Webby wasted no time swimming down to the plants and examining them; she quickly found out that they were stretchy but firm, easy enough to cut with her claws, and tasted terrible. She’d played around with some of the seaweed in the Royal Gardens before, but she’d never seen any strains that were this colorful! Her mind raced with possibilities, and she quickly started gathering up bushels of the plant, until, after a few minutes, a school of fish swam past her head.

“Hey!” she called, resting her future arts and crafts project around her neck and raising her trident. “Get back here, you delicious little devils!”

And with a pump of her tail, she sent herself rocketing through the water after her prey.

* * *

Once she got back to the ship, Webby dropped off her haul of fish to Violet, who told her that she ‘couldn’t physically carry that many fish’ and that Webby should ‘take them down to the galley’ and that she was ‘frankly disconcerted by Webby’s ability to carry so many fish on her person at once.’ Webby took the constructive criticism in stride and relocated the fish to the kitchen, before retiring to the dining table, where she began weaving the stretchy seaweed she’d gathered earlier into bracelets, humming a little tune to herself as she went. 

She hadn’t ever really had friends before, so it was important for Webby that she do this right. And what better way to symbolize her bond with her new crewmates than with friendship bracelets? They had friendship in the name, for crying out loud! She had just tied off her first bracelet when a voice interrupted her soft humming.

“Watchya doing there, Pink?”

Webby looked up at Lena, who was leaning over the side of the staircase, looking down at her.

“Lena! Perfect timing!” Webby greeted. “I just finished yours!”

“Just finished my what?” Lena asked, hopping down to the floor and walking over to take the seat next to Webby.

“Friendship bracelet! Because we’re friends now!” Webby handed her the bracelet, which she took with curiosity. “With this gift from me to you, I know our bond shall always be true,” she recited, putting her hands over her heart. 

Lena looked down at her bracelet. “Sympathetic magic? That’s pretty advanced stuff.”

“What?” Webby’s brow creased. “No, it’s not magic. It’s just, uh—friendship. You know?”

Lena brought her eyes up to meet Webby, confusion drawn across her face. “But… you spoke an incantation?”

Webby blushed. “Oh, that. That was, um, just, I don’t know… Sometimes I write, like, poetry, I guess, but, uh—it’s stupid. Forget I said anything.”

“What? No, it’s not stupid!” Lena assured quickly. “You want to see stupid, look at  _ my _ poems.”

Webby broke into a grin. “Woah, you’re a poet?! I mostly just write little songs and stuff…”

“I… wouldn’t exactly call myself a poet,” Lena said, nervously brushing at her hair. “It’s mostly an outlet for me. And good practice for spells, I suppose, which is a plus. It’s nice to be able to rhyme on the fly. But I, uh, heard your song yesterday. It was really good. You wrote that?”

“Oh, thanks! Yeah, I did,” Webby said. “Helped pass the time. Maybe we could share poems? Like, a poetry circle or something? Isn’t that a thing? Or, well, I guess it wouldn’t really be a circle with just two of us, but—”

“Yeah, so, I dunno, Pink,” Lena interrupted. “Mine are kind of… personal. I didn’t really write them thinking that other people would read them, you know?”

“Please?” Webby asked. “I promise I won’t judge them!”

Lena let out a small laugh; more of a mirthful exhale, really. “Yeah. I know you wouldn’t.” She twisted the friendship bracelet a few times in her hands, before sliding it onto her wrist. “Maybe someday I’ll find the guts to show you.”

“Well, I can’t wait!” Webby chirped, grabbing Lena and pulling her in for a quick hug.

“Woah! Webby! I don’t—uh—” Lena’s voice petered out, and Webby felt her arms give her a quick squeeze in return before she pulled away. “I—I need to go.”

Webby squinted at her. “Are you okay? Your face looks a bit red.”

“…I need to go.” Lena stuffed her hands in her coat pockets, hunching up her shoulders as she stood up from the table and began walking away. “Thanks for the bracelet!” she said as she ascended the stairs.

“You’re welcome!” Webby called. “See you later!”

* * *

“Violet, we have a problem,” Lena said, bursting into Violet’s cabin.

Violet, who had been quietly enjoying a fascinating book about the architecture of ancient Goose settlements, hurriedly bookmarked her page and scrambled into a sitting position, her hammock swaying underneath her. “What is it? Do I need arms?”

“No it’s not—it’s nothing like that,” Lena said. “It’s—look, I don’t really know for sure but—” Lena stopped, looking nervously down the hall at the other cabin doors. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Violet said. Lena shot her grateful smile and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. “Now, what has you so distressed?”

“I think—” Lena lowered her voice down to a whisper. “I think I have a crush on Webby.”

Violet blinked.

“Don’t  _ look _ at me like that, Vi!” Lena hissed.

“Look at you like what, Lena?” Violet asked, her voice completely neutral.

“Like—like that!” Lena accused, pointing a finger. “Like I’m an idiot!”

“Sorry; that wasn’t my intention,” Violet said. “It was meant to be more of a mixture of cosmically frustrated and profoundly unimpressed.” 

“Look, Vi, I’m freaking out!” Lena went on. “I have no idea how this happened—it, it  _ shouldn’t _ have happened! I didn’t even know I could  _ get _ crushes, but she’s—she’s just so  _ cute! _ She made me a friendship bracelet!” 

Lena pulled down her sleeve aggressively, showing off a brightly-colored bracelet woven out of some material Violet didn’t recognize. She made a mental note to ask Webbigail about that later. Once Lena was done with… whatever this was.

“Who  _ does _ that?!” Lena asked, throwing her hands up. “And you know what’s worse? I  _ love _ it. I’m an edgy shadow pirate! I write emo poems about my dark and twisted past! I shouldn’t be wandering around with a frickin’ friendship bracelet on! But I can’t bring myself to take it off!”

“So not only did you kidnap the heiress to the mermaids, but now you plan to seduce her as well?” Violet mused. “Shameful, Lena.”

“Don’t get cute with me here, Vi, okay?” Lena snapped, eyebrows narrowing. “Just tell me what to do!”

“Well,” Violet said calmly, “do you want to pursue a romantic relationship with her, or do you just want to try and wait it out?”

Lena’s eyes widened. “Pursue a—what? I didn’t even—what?!”

Violet regarded her sister quizzically. “You…  _ do _ know what crushes tend to lead to, right? Like… you  _ are _ aware of how dating works?”

“I—but— _ yes, _ but—” Lena groaned, burying her burning cheeks into her palms. “I’m going to throw myself into the ocean.”

“In order to get Webby to save you, since she’s the best swimmer on board? Not a bad plan, I’ll admit, especially if you cling onto her when she pulls you back up. Maybe you should scream out her name when you fall for added effect?”

Lena lowered her hands enough to level a glare at Violet with one eye. “Vi, I will  _ gut _ you.”

“Sorry.” Violet cleared her throat. “Why don’t you just ask her out?”

“Out? Out  _ where?” _ Lena gestured broadly with one arm. “There’s not exactly a lot of fancy restaurants around.”

Violet rolled her eyes. “Okay, then just drag her into the cargo hold and start snogging. I’m sure she’s not picky.”

_ “VIOLET!”  _ Lena screeched. Violet was satisfied to observe that Lena’s face was brighter than Huey’s hat. “You’re the  _ worst! _ I’m  _ leaving!” _

“Try not to mumble about her in your sleep! She’ll hear you!” Violet called after her as she stormed out. “You know, since you’re sleeping in the same bed and all?”

Lena’s middle finger was the last thing Violet saw before the door slammed close in an aura of bright blue magic. Violet smirked to herself, settled back into her hammock, and returned to her book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Almost certainly_ a break next week unless I go Turbo Mode, which I have admittedly been known to do. Anyway--thanks so much for reading, and for all your kudos and comments! They really keep me going.


	9. Caught in the Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cape Suzette appears on the horizon.

By the time Webby had finished up her own friendship bracelet, it had been dinner time, which turned out to be a rather strange affair. Lena had acted uncharacteristically reserved the whole time, except for several occasions where Violet would say something slightly off about either Webby (“So, Webby, you were looking for adventure, right? Did you know that some people say that the conquering of the heart is the greatest adventure of all? I just thought that was interesting.”) or Lena (“You know, Lena’s been in the mood for fish a lot recently.”) and then Lena would suddenly turn at her and either glare, hiss, or threaten bodily harm. So clearly something was going on, but heck if Webby knew what it was. 

After helping Violet clean up from dinner, Webby went up to the main deck, where the triplets had apparently just wrapped up with the sails. Huey was leaning over the wheel, his beak, as usual, buried in a book; Louie was slumped against the main mast, his eyes closed; and Dewey was up in the crow’s nest, looking around with his spyglass. Not wanting to interrupt Huey’s book or Louie’s nap, Webby did a few quick acrobatics up the rigging, swinging and flipping up the ropes. She landed on the edge of the basket of the crow’s nest right in front of Dewey, balancing on her hands—he let out a yelp, stumbling backwards and bumping against the mast.

“Gah! Webby?! How did you get up here?”

Webby blinked at him. “The… ropes?”

“But, you, uh.” Dewey frowned, his eyes flicking away from her and back again. “You don’t have legs?”

“Who needs legs?”

“…Me?”

“Psh.” Webby shifted her weight onto one hand, using the other to wave him off. “You don’t  _ really _ need legs.”

“Is… that a threat?” Dewey asked. “Because I’m feeling kind of threatened right now.”

“No,” Webby said. “If I’m threatening you, you’ll know.”

Dewey’s frown deepened.

“So what are you doing?” Webby asked.

“Just looking around,” Dewey said, wiggling the spyglass in his hand. “Huey says that Cape Suzette’s gonna appear on the horizon soon. I figured I’d keep a lookout.”

“Neat! Can I try?” She flopped down off of her hands and into the basket.

Dewey contemplated that for a moment, then shrugged and handed over the spyglass. “Just be careful. These aren’t cheap.”

Webby nodded and held it up to her eye, scanning out across the ocean. “Woah! This is so cool! We didn’t have anything like this back on Mermaid Isle.”

“Yeah, I don’t really think it would work underwater.”

“Wait! I think I see something!”

“What?” Dewey exclaimed. “Gimme!”

He practically wrenched the spyglass out of Webby’s claws, bringing it up to his eye. A smile broke out across his face, and he quickly thrust both of his arms into the air triumphantly. 

“LAND HO!” he shouted. “Cape Suzette is in sight!”

“LAND HO!” Webby echoed, throwing her own hands up.

“I’m trying to nap!” came Louie’s irritated voice from the deck.

“Woah, really?” Huey called up. “I want to see! Hold on, let me get up there.”

“I gotta tell Lena!” Webby exclaimed, turning and vaulting over the side of the crow’s nest. She deftly swung down the ropes, landing on the deck in a roll that she leapt out of midway, springing off of the tip of her tail and landing on her palms. She walked herself over to Lena’s quarters and fell against the door, simultaneously pushing it open and falling inside.

Lena was sitting at her desk, writing something in a notebook. She jumped as Webby opened the door, turning to look. 

“O-oh! Webby!” she said hurriedly, slamming the cover of the journal shut. She opened one of her desk drawers and stuffed it inside. “Hi! What’s up?”

“Dewey just spotted Cape Suzette through his magic vision enhancement tube!”

“His spyglass,” Lena gently corrected. “It’s not magic. And that’s good; one step closer to all of this being over.”

“What were you writing?” Webby asked.

Lena turned away, her cheeks lighting up a little. “Oh, that? Nothing, really.”

Webby scooted closer. “Was it poetry?”

“Um.” Lena briefly met Webby’s eyes, then looked away again. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed!” Webby insisted. “I’m sure I’ll love your poetry, even if it’s really bad, which I’m sure it isn’t!”

Lena shook her head, letting out a light laugh. “Yeah, I know you would, Pink. I’m just not sure if I’m ready to share just yet.”

“That’s fine,” Webby said. “I think I understand. Poetry like, it brings out the parts of you that can’t be expressed any other way, you know? And that can be kind of scary. But I like having all of myself out in the open, even if I can only get some of it out there through my songs.”

Lena nodded. “Yeah. I mostly use it as a way to vent and work through my emotions. I don’t… really write poems to share.”

“Well, whenever that changes, you know where to find me!” Webby said.

“…Yeah,” Lena agreed. “I do.” 

A couple hours later, the moon was high in the sky, and everything was quiet on the ship. By Huey’s estimate, they would reach Cape Suzette around noon tomorrow, and so they had all been instructed to get a good night’s sleep. Webby, however, was still wide awake.

Lena was slumbering next to her, breathing against Webby’s neck; she had so far managed to avoid getting ensnared by Lena’s nocturnal cuddling instinct, though she did have to carefully move her arms away a few times. Once she was sure Lena wasn’t going to wake up easily, she delicately extricated herself from the covers and inchwormed over towards Lena’s desk, opening up one of the lower drawers and removing the small leather-bound notebook. 

Now, Webby respected Lena’s wishes about not wanting to share her poetry—and that was why when Lena built up the courage to show Webby her poems, she would pretend as if she had never seen them before and would be very supportive and encouraging. 

But she was  _ so _ curious, and she felt like this was very much a ‘what she doesn’t know won’t embarrass her’ situation. It wasn’t like she was reading her  _ diary  _ or anything! It was only because Lena was so cool and Webby just  _ knew _ her poetry would be cool too. It was a flattering kind of nosy! A D-tier invasion of privacy at best.

Without wasting any more time on internal justifications, Webby opened the journal, and was immediately greeted by a poem scratched out across the length of the first page. The handwriting was completely illegible, the ink smeared and scuffed, and the letters hardly recognizable. Webby frowned and began flipping through the book; the handwriting slowly but surely improved as it went on, until she came across the first poem that she was actually able to make out without too much trouble. She took a deep breath and began to read.

_ Selfish Existence _

_ Across this untamed Sea does sail  
_ _ A monster from beyond the Veil,  
_ _ And seeing her, the Light turns tail,  
_ _ Ensuring the Darkness will prevail; _

_ To the Pirate Queen besworn,  
_ _ She sold her Soul for Mortal form,  
_ _ Of borrowed Flesh, from Shadows born—   
_ _ A Selfish Existence, forever torn; _

_ Her Body is Nothing but a Lie,  
_ _ A Hole from which Cursed Horrors fly,  
_ _ She sits back to Watch the World Cry,  
_ _ For it can’t be Whole Until she Dies. _

When she reached the end of the poem, Webby opened her beak, closed it again, and moved her eyes back up to the top of the page. She read it again, and then a third time after that, before closing the journal and delicately sliding it back into the desk. 

She wrapped her arms around herself, her claws poking against her skin, and looked over her shoulder at Lena. She was mumbling in her sleep, her hair a mess across her face. She grabbed out at where Webby wasn’t, and frowned when her hand only met the mattress, before rolling over. 

“…Who are you?” Webby whispered into the dark room. “What… happened to you?”

Nobody answered her, of course. Webby sighed, crawling back across the room and tucking herself into bed again. Lena’s arm immediately twitched in her sleep at the movement, searching around. 

Webby giggled. “Come here, you beautiful idiot,” she mumbled, grabbing Lena in a hug and pulling her inwards. She held her like that for as long as it took for her to fall asleep, and longer still after that.

* * *

Della lay flat on the floor of her cell, her hands clasped over her stomach, breathing lightly. In and out. In and out. Keep your eye on the prize, Della. 

She heard the door to the brig creak open, and sat up quickly, breaking into a smile. 

“Penny!” she greeted as Penumbra came into view, sliding another bowl of unappetizing mush through the slit in the bars. “How’s it hanging, sister?”

“Della,” Penumbra acknowledged. Della had been slowly and surely wearing down that cold exterior with her old Della Duck charm, but Penumbra was adamantly holding on to at least  _ some _ professional distance. “It’s hanging sufficiently.”

“Glad to hear it!” Della said, pulling the bowl further into her cell.

Penumbra leaned against the back wall and crossed her arms. “I can’t really stay and chat this time. We’re getting close to Cape Suzette, and Magica wants us all up there to go over the plan.”

“Oh, I didn’t know we were getting close!”

“It just popped up on the horizon,” Penumbra said. “We should be docking sometime tomorrow morning.”

Della nodded at the news, swallowing down a spoonful of mush. “Cape Suzette’s a great place. Well—most of it is. If you only go out during the day. And if you remember to keep a close eye on your coin purse.” She shrugged. “Great place.”

“Sounds right up Magica’s alley,” Penumbra mumbled. “I’d better get going. See you.”

Della set the bowl down and stood up, wobbling a bit before finding her equilibrium. “Wait, Penny! Before you go!”

Penny turned. “What?”

“Magica’s plan is going to backfire,” Della said. All playful banter was gone from her voice; it was low, and cold, and cautionary. “Trust me. You don’t be on her side when all of that goes down.”

Penumbra broke eye contact, frowned, shifted a bit, clutched at her upper arm with her opposite hand, opened her mouth, and then shuffled out of the brig without another word.

Well. Della had tried her best. It was up to Penumbra now to make the right choice.

She finished up the rest of her dinner and waited until the light filtering in from the sole porthole in the brig withered into nothing but a faint stream of cool moonlight. The ship was silent aside from the creaking of wood and the rolling of the ocean beneath them; perfect.

Della reached under her shirt collar and pulled out her pelagic key. The seashell twisted on its cord, tiny flecks of glittering sand on its surface sparkling in the pale light. Slowly, she lifted it off of her neck and over her head. She let out a small grunt of exertion and clamped her hands together, crushing the seashell between her palms with a series of high-pitched cracks. She opened up her hands to reveal the jagged pieces of the shattered shell, and, sitting among the fragments like an egg in its nest, a small, shimmering pearl.

The pearl seemed to shift and morph in her vision; it was iridescent, transitioning almost imperceptibly from deep blues to pale pinks to frosty greens, and the surface seemed to be constantly melting and reforming, but always somehow remaining impossibly smooth to the touch.

Della let out a breath, and, before she could hesitate any longer, popped the pearl into her beak, swallowing it down.

The taste was horrific, and the effects immediate. She felt a coldness spread across her forearms and hands, and a similar feeling along her waist all the way down to the tips of her toes. Pinpricks of sensation burst across her teeth, and she let out a gasp as her legs convulsed, clamping together and then beginning to melt into each other.

The experience wasn’t painful, per se, but it was certainly one of the strangest things she’d ever felt. It was all over in a half a second, though, and she flopped onto the cell floor, staring down at her scaly new mermaid tail.

_ Oh, this is WEIRD, _ she thought as she flicked her tail this way and that. She was missing a tail fin on the same side she had been missing her leg before she’d used the key—she supposed that was to be expected, though part of her had hoped the magic would do her a solid and regrow it for her.

She gnashed her new fangs experimentally, then brought her hands in front of her face; they were covered in scales halfway down her forearms and ended in wicked points. It was all slightly unsettling, but, somehow, it felt just as much like  _ her _ as her old body had felt. She didn’t know if that was mind magic at play, or if she just had a flexible self-image, but whatever the case, she was thankful. She didn’t have any time to waste on contemplating the nature of the self.

She wriggled her way over to the cell door, slipped her hand through the bars, grabbed the padlock, and  _ yanked. _ With a screech of metal, the lock snapped clean off, and the door swung open.

“Wow,” Della mumbled. “Selene really wasn’t kidding about the muscular strength.”

She managed to move herself out of the brig without too much trouble; trying to move quietly with a tail was a bit of a challenge. From there, she pulled herself up the stairs, rolled over to the railing, and threw herself overboard, plummeting towards the ocean. She caught sight of Cape Suzette on the horizon as she fell, a few of the taller buildings poking up to obscure the low-hanging stars.

She smiled to herself. This wasn’t over yet, Magica.

And then she broke the water, and had a brief yet intense moment of panic before her gills kicked in. This… might take some getting used to.

* * *

Scrooge McDuck’s cane tapped down hard onto the wooden pier of Cape Suzette’s docks. He held up a hand to shield his eyes from the blaring mid-day sun, and scowled out across the bustling city streets, where all manner of shoddy market stands had been set up to greet the incoming ships with plenty of chances to spend their money. A light breeze was blowing in from the ocean, and the clouds hovering menacingly over the inland rooftops promised an overnight storm.

“Alright, de Spell,” Scrooge muttered, lifting up his cane once more as he set off towards the city. “Do your worst.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYBODY SHUT UP AND look at this dope art that [Jen-iii](https://jen-iii.tumblr.com/) made of mermaid Webby!!! She was kind enough to turn a piece of shitty concept art I made into a full-fledged masterpiece and. I CANNOT get over how good it is!
> 
> There might be another break next week or there might not. I just went through finals so I'm a bit behind, but I want to get back to regular weekly updates as soon as possible. We'll see!


	10. Haunting the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magica gets angry. Louie gets to know some locals.

**Ten years ago**

The sun hung high in the sky above Mt. Vesuvius, partially obscured by the dark shadow of the moon as the eclipse drew ever-nearer. It was almost time.

Tiny pieces of volcanic stone and glass crunched under her boots as she trekked up the side of the mountain, an arm pressed over her face to keep the ash out of her lungs. The air here was simultaneously thin and smoggy, and every breath she took seemed to sap more life out of her than it put back in. 

But as she approached the volcano’s mouth, she could feel the magical presence in the area rising. Perfect; she just had to do the ritual, claim her new powers, and then get out of this horrid place before she choked to death.

Once she found a sufficiently flat portion of stone, she knelt down and unslung her satchel from her back, dropping it onto the craggy slope with a muted thunk. She carefully took her sword and etched the summoning circle into the layer of ash covering the basalt, then set up a series of bone candles around the circle, lighting each one. The flames flicked and surged for a second before fading to a cold, eerie blue. Finally, she dumped the corpse of a Navy soldier into the middle of the circle, his arms flopping lifelessly across the ash.

Once everything was in position, she dug deep into her core, wrestling with her magic. It took a few seconds; she was still recovering from her battle with that  _ despicable _ McDuck, and still regaining the power he’d stolen from her. But after this, she’d be able to steal it  _ back. _ After a few seconds, she finally managed to push it out into the world, channeling it through her words and feeding it into the circle.

_ “Summone spiritus _ _   
_ _ Ex tenebris; _

_ Multi nigrum ignes _ _   
_ _ Carpe carnes; _

_ Tua novissima hora  _ _   
_ _ Est quasi umbra; _

_ Sursum!” _

She finished speaking right as the eclipse hit its peak, bathing the mountaintop in a cool, all-encompassing twilight. A pitch-black crack in the world split through the still air above the summoning circle with a deafening  _ snap, _ and a mass of shifting, writhing shadows squeezed through, peering at her with wide, glowing eyes.

_ Who…? _ it asked, the words manifesting in her head as if they were her own thoughts.

“Shadow spirit,” she greeted, making sure she stayed true to the script she had been memorizing for days. “I am Magica de Spell, and I come bearing an offer of covenant. Give to me your magic, and I shall in turn give to you the flesh and anchor you need to exist in this realm. Magic for body, power for presence, as is the way of the ancients. Do you accept?”

_ I… accept, _ said the shadow monster. It reached out two long tendrils of shadows, one down into the dead man below it, and the other into her chest. The shadow’s presence was cold and invasive as it searched through her, before finally brushing up against her magical core. 

And then it  _ squeezed. _

She was vaguely aware of the Navy soldier’s remains erupting into a tornado of flesh, blood, and bone in front of her, but she was distracted by a horrible, searing pain splitting through her body. It tore through her, stripping her down to her bare essentials, and then built her back up, infusing every inch of her body with dark magic.

Eventually, the pain died down, and she was left panting and exhausted on the ground. With a groan, she pushed herself up onto her knees—and saw that she was face to face with a little girl. Her feet wriggled in the ash, and she wore a bright smile on her beak, shadowy smoke still rolling off of her feathers as the spell died down. Her hair flopped down across her face, covering one eye with its unnatural pink tips.

Magica narrowed her eyes. “You… You’re the…?”

“Hello, Magica de Spell!” spoke the girl. “I’m Lena! Thank you for giving me a body.” 

“Wh… What?” she coughed out, finally standing up to her full height.  _ “You’re _ the shadow monster I bonded with? How old are you?”

“I’m six years old, Magica de Spell!” chirped Lena. 

“Six?!” Magica hissed. “That ritual was supposed to let me bond with an  _ ancient spirit! _ Not some  _ little girl!” _

Lena frowned. “Oh. Well, you weren’t putting out a very strong signal, Magica de Spell. If you wanted to get the attention of one of the older shadows, you should’ve used stronger magic.”

Magica’s eye twitched. “I have been  _ stockpiling _ magic for this day for  _ years, _ and you’re telling me it was  _ TOO WEAK?!  _ I came all the way out here to find  _ untold power, _ not a  _ BABYSITTING JOB!” _

“Maybe you should’ve stockpiled more,” Lena said with a giggle.

“Are you—” Magica’s face contorted into a sneer. “Are you  _ mocking me?  _ I don’t think you understand the situation here,  _ Lena.” _

She took a step forward; Lena looked up at her confusedly. “Um—sorry! I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Magica laughed darkly. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. Now listen up:  _ I _ gave you that body.  _ I  _ have your  _ magic!  _ You answer to  _ ME _ now!”

“I—I don’t understand,” Lena whimpered, taking a step back on the uneven ground.

“You will,” Magica said.

Lena’s eyes widened. “W-wait! Please, I don’t understand!”

Magica was breathing hot, heavy breaths, no longer caring what stray pieces of detritus she inhaled. She looked into those scared, pathetic eyes before her, and something inside her snapped. 

She raised her arm high above her head, fingers curling into a fist.  _ “HHRRRAAAA—” _

… 

  
  


… 

  
  


… 

  
  


… 

  
  


… 

  
  


“—AAAAH!” Magica screamed, her hand slamming down hard against the railing of the Dark Eclipse. “What do you  _ mean _ the prisoner escaped!?” 

In front of her, Penumbra gulped. “She wasn’t in the brig when I got down there, and the lock on her cell was broken. I don’t know how she did it.”

“That’s  _ impossible,” _ Magica sneered. “I had an alarm on her cell that was attuned to her very  _ essence. _ There’s no  _ way _ she’s out of the cell, unless she  _ completely _ altered her magical signature, which is  _ IMPOSSIBLE!” _

She punctuated her sentence by slamming her fist against the railing again. Penumbra was looking increasingly uncomfortable. “Well… you can check for yourself if you want? Maybe I missed something.”

Magica reached down into her core, pulling at her magic, and then clenched her jaw. “No, the only shadows on the ship right now are ours. DAMMIT!” She whirled around, shooting off a blast of compressed energy that hit a nearby empty barrel and blew it to smithereens, causing a nearby Beaks to yelp and jump back. “I was  _ so _ looking forward to Scrooge’s face when I killed her in front of him, but then she ruins it all by throwing herself into the ocean!”

“Does this change the plan, captain?” Lunaris asked. “It’s not like Scrooge will know she’s already dead.”

Magica sighed. “True. We’ll need to be a bit more careful setting our trap, however.” She paced the ship, tapping a finger against her chin. “He has a nose for trouble and an insatiable curiousity. We’ll have to use those against him. Beaks, Glomgold; you two are going to rob someone. The first big mansion you can find.”

“Ha-HA!” cheered Glomgold, thrusting his fists in the air. “I  _ love _ robbin’ people!”

“Scrooge will see that and go investigating, and that’s when I’ll catch him by surprise,” Magica explained. “But there’s a chance he’ll see through it—I will  _ not _ underestimate that man again. Lunaris, you and Penumbra will guard the ship. Take this.” She reached into her cloak and took out an old ceramic vase with a screaming face etched into it, handing it over to Lunaris. “If Scrooge is onto us, he’ll seek out the ship instead to trap us on the island. If he does, break that vase. It’ll signal me, and I’ll be able to come back here and turn his ambush against him. Does everybody understand?”

They all nodded.

“Perfect,” Magica said. The shore of Cape Suzette was close now; just another hour or so. She couldn’t keep the smirk off her face. “This is it, McDuck. Your final hour,  _ ten years _ in the making! I hope you’re  _ ready.” _

“Uh. I’m pretty sure he cannae hear you, ya know,” Glomgold said.

“Do you  _ want _ me to kill you?!” Magica hissed.

He meekly shook his head.

“Then  _ shut up.” _

* * *

Louie tugged anxiously at the collar of his suit as he looked at the large, imposing building towering up before him. It was in pristine condition, a stark difference to the run-down, dilapidated state of the majority of Cape Suzette, and it displayed a giant sign that read ‘The Golden Barrel Tavern’ in big, glittering lettering. 

“And… you’re sure about this, guys?” he asked. “This place sticks out like a sore thumb. That just  _ screams _ sketchy.”

“Sketchy’s what we’re looking for,” Lena said. “Rich and sketchy. Doesn’t get better than this.”

“But what if things go bad?”

Violet crossed her arms. “It was  _ your _ plan. Plus, you’re the only one who brought along formal wear, for whatever reason, so you’re the only one who can pull this off for us. All you have to do is sit there and look like a snobby rich kid who deals in trafficking, and then set up a place and time for the exchange once a potential buyer comes up to you.”

“Yeah. Easy.”

“I thought you said you were a ‘master conman,’” Lena said, curling her fingers into air quotes. “This should be right up your alley.”

“Most of those cons involved getting Dewey to do my laundry for me or gaslighting Uncle Donald into giving me my monthly allowance twice,” Louie admitted.

Lena shrugged. “Well, we all start somewhere. Now put on a pretty face for the bouncer!” she encouraged, pushing him towards the tavern. “We’ll go in the back way and get the rumor mills started.”

“The back way?” Louie questioned.

“Draw as much attention to yourself as possible,” Violet said. “Remember, you’re trying to drum up business.”

“Right,” Louie said.

“Good luck,” Violet offered, and then the two of them ran off around the side of the building, into the shadows of the alley.

Louie took a deep breath, adjusted his jacket, and pushed open the tavern door. The interior of the building was even more lavish than the exterior, with a fine pelt carpeting, bronze-framed oil paintings, and glittering chandeliers. Louie was so busy staring at it all, he almost walked straight into the bouncer, who was a tall, broad-shouldered eagle.

“I’m afraid this is no place for children,” the eagle said icily.

Louie scoffed reflexively, and then decided to roll with it. “Ex _ cuse _ me?!” he said indignantly. “Call me a child again and I’ll have you  _ fired, _ good sir!”

The bouncer was unamused. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“I’m the  _ Green Baron, _ thank you very much!” Louie said. It was a stupid name—a preposterously stupid name—but it was the first thing that popped into his head, and he forced himself not to cringe at it.

“I’ve never heard of you,” said the bouncer, crossing his arms.

“I deal in, you know…” Louie waved his hand dramatically and raised his voice as much as he could without it being suspicious.  _ “Exotic _ goods? The kind that breathe and have claws? No?” He huffed. “I  _ knew _ coming to this town was a bad idea. Backwater place doesn’t even know how to string together enough gold to buy a decent bouncer! Well, let me through—if I’m not getting a sale here, then I’m damn well getting a drink!”

Louie huffed again and pushed past the bouncer, entering the main area of the tavern.

He heard footsteps behind him. “Hey, I never said you could—”

“Woah! Is that the Green Baron?” came a poorly-concealed whisper from a nearby table. “He’s, like,  _ crazy _ rich. What’s he doing in Cape Suzette?”

Louie’s eyes flicked over to see Lena playing a game of cards with a trio of gruff-looking well-dressed seagulls. She was clearly cheating; it was the same shuffling trick that Louie always pulled against Dewey. Louie idly wondered if she happened to know it by coincidence, or if she’d picked it up just by watching him. He also wondered how she’d gotten in and started playing a game of cards so fast. She was… hard to discern sometimes.

Louie was just thankful for the save, however, as he turned to the bouncer, who was growing a bit red in the cheeks as he realized his ‘mistake.’ “Is something the matter?”

“Um—no, Mr. Baron,” said the eagle, adjusting his tie and returning to his post. “Carry on.”

“I’ve never heard of a ‘Green Baron,’” said one of the seagulls at Lena’s table as Louie made his way over to the bar. “Not from around here?”

Lena shrugged. “Dunno where he’s from. Travels around a lot. I met him when I was doing business out in West Featherly—he was selling a griffon he’d captured out in the mountains.”

“Oh, like shit he was,” said one of the other seagulls. “Bet he’s just another fucking scammer.”

Lena shook her head as she scooped up her winnings from the round. “I saw it with my own eyes. If that thing was fake, then let me tell you, it was one hell of a scam. That’s how the saying goes: the Baron always delivers.”

Louie sat down at the bar, Lena’s conversation fading into the general clamor of the bar. “And what can I get for you, sir?” asked the bartender, a tall, thin pelican.

“Um—” Louie paused, looking at the menu of drinks behind the counter. None of them meant anything to him. “Nothing right now. I like to, uh, take in the smells first. Builds up an appetite, you know?” 

“Yes of course, sir,” the bartender acknowledged, not so much as blinking as he moved on to service another customer.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but rumor has it he’s selling a  _ mermaid _ this time.” 

Louie subtly looked over towards the new voice; this time, it was Violet, who was chatting with a few birds over by the pool table.

One of the birds scoffed. “No way. Nobody’s even  _ seen _ a mermaid in over a decade.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” Violet said. “But you know what they say: the Green Baron always delivers.”

“Still smelling?”

Louie jumped, looking up at the bartender. “Um—yep! Gotta take in those scents.”

The bartender nodded. “I completely understand, sir. Take your time.”

_ Okay, he definitely thinks I’m insane, _ Louie thought. 

Before too long, the whole tavern was alight with mumbled rumors about him. Louie could only make out snippets: something something “Green Baron” something, mumble mumble “mermaid” mumble, blah blah “I heard he always delivers” blah. Louie sat at the bar, occasionally giving an enthused sniff when the bartender looked his way, until he was approached by a massive falcon in a sharp business suit.

“Hello?” Louie asked.

The falcon sat down on the barstool, which was almost comically tiny compared to his towering frame. “My name is Falcon Graves. I hear that you are the Green Baron?”

Louie smirked. “I am indeed.”

“I also hear that you’re looking for a buyer for a rather rare species of fish.”

“Oh? Well, you’ve heard right,” Louie said. “You interested?”

“My employer is.”

“And who’s your employer?”

“Very rich,” Graves said. “That’s all you need to know.”

“Well, he better be,” Louie said. “This is a one of a kind offer. I’m not exactly looking for a  _ small _ fortune.”

“My employer is well aware. I am confident you will find his offer more than satisfactory.” Graves narrowed his eyes. “That is, of course, if you’re telling the truth. I find it somewhat hard to believe that someone of your…  _ comportment _ was able to subdue and detain a beast known to be a vicious, indiscriminate murderer.”

“Oh, it wasn’t  _ me _ who did that. God no.” Louie made a disgusted face. “No, that’s what I pay my team to do. Can you  _ imagine  _ touching that slimy thing? And I am getting  _ no _ closer to those claws than I  _ absolutely _ have to. But don’t you worry—the mermaid is very real. I  _ always _ deliver.”

“Mmm, so I’ve heard,” Graves said, studying him closely. “Very well then. We’ll do a live exchange; what time works well for you?”

Louie eased into a comfortable smile, exchanging a quick look across the room with Lena. “Well, I was thinking a bit past midnight…”


	11. Hidden From Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sunlight pirates proceed with their plan. Things go well, for the most part.

“This is the place,” Louie said, peeking out through the brush. “Looks like they aren’t here yet.”

Webby turned her head this way and that, taking in the surroundings. The meeting place for the exchange was a small clearing in the middle of the wooded region outside of town; it was very secluded, and the thick tree line meant that it would be impossible to know who exactly was waiting in the wings in case the deal went sour. 

She felt Huey behind her, adjusting the rope that was binding her wrists to the tip of her tail in a sort of modified hogtie. Dewey stood a few feet off with the cage that they had built; it looked sturdy enough, but bars were hollow, and against her claws it would go down easily. Huey and Dewey had gone out to buy basic supplies with the last of their gold while Lena and the others had been drumming up business—they’d gotten food, materials to build the cage, and a couple spare hammocks, much to Webby’s silent disappointment. (What could she say? Lena’s bed was _really_ comfy. And so was Lena.) 

“And you’re sure you can break out of this?” Huey asked, loosening the knot on the ropes as much as he could without it being obvious.

“Pff! Are you kidding me?” Webby asked, flexing her wrists. “I could break out of this kind of restraint in my sleep!”

“They’re coming,” Lena said suddenly. “You guys are up. And remember, you’ll have Vi and me ready to step in if things go wrong.”

The triplets nodded, quickly placing Webby into the cage and latching it shut. She looked out through the bars and saw two figures standing out in the clearing—the differences in their size was almost comical, with one smaller than the boys and the other bigger than her Granny, but she couldn’t make out more than rough silhouettes from so far away in the dark.

“And… start the show,” Louie mumbled.

Huey and Dewey, their faces both obscured by masks, hefted up the cage and carried her out into the clearing, with Louie walking a few paces in front of them, sauntering forward confidently with his hands in his pockets.

Webby made a big show of thrashing about in her cage as they approached, grunting and hissing and gnashing her teeth. Eventually, they stopped in front of the two figures, and Huey and Dewey set down the cage. Webby stopped her fake struggling for a moment to inspect the buyers, but made sure she kept an angry, beastial scowl on her face.

The bigger figure was a broad-shouldered falcon, who was carrying an old wooden chest under one arm; Webby guessed he was the bodyguard. The smaller figure was a short, plump duck with large glasses who couldn’t be older than thirteen, wearing the most offensively ostentatious clothes Webby had ever seen on a surface dweller. She guessed that was considered high fashion? To her it just looked silly. 

“Greetings, Green Baron,” said the duck. “I am Doofus Drake of the Drake estate here in Cape Suzette. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Louie said smoothly. He gestured at Webby. “As you can see, I’ve brought the item of sale, as promised.”

“I’m not an _item!”_ Webby snapped, wriggling around some more in the cage. “As soon as I get free, I’m killing _all of you!”_

“Mmhmm, yeah, good luck with that,” Louie said, before turning back to Doofus. “She still hasn’t given up on trying to break those ropes; I don’t think she’s realized it’s impossible. Persistent, though, I’ll give her that.”

“I would’ve thought you’d have muzzled it,” the falcon said gruffly. 

Next to her, Webby saw Dewey make an indignant face at the idea, but he was fortunately able to stick to the plan and stay quiet. 

Louie shrugged. “It’s decent entertainment. Sea life can get pretty boring. Sometimes she sings, too.”

“You know what else is fun entertainment? Ripping out your intestines with my bare hands!” Webby spat.

Doofus nodded. “I must say, Baron, I agree with you. What fun is a pet if you silence it?”

“Uh, yeah. Totally,” Louie agreed. 

“You know, I wasn’t sure you were telling the truth, but it seems you _do_ always deliver,” Doofus said. He walked forward, inspecting Webby through the cage. “What a fascinating creature… it _must_ be mine. I’ve been rather _bored_ with all my other pets lately…”

Webby didn’t really have to try very hard to pretend anymore, her body rearing back and letting out a low growl all on its own. This guy was a _creep._

“You’ve got the money, then?” Louie asked. “We don’t need to spend any more time than we have to.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” said the falcon to Doofus. “The rumors of the Green Baron’s presence are spreading quickly. We should complete the transaction and return the goods to the mansion before anybody realizes we’ve acquired such a highly valuable asset.”

“…Of course,” Doofus said, giving Webby one last once-over before retreating back to his bodyguard. “Graves? Present the payment.”

Graves stepped forward, removing the chest from under his arm and opening it to reveal piles and piles of glittering gold coins. “Ten thousand gold pieces,” Graves said. He reached a hand into the chest, pushing through the piles of coins until it hit the bottom of the wood. “No false bottom. And you can check the make yourself.” 

He tossed one of the coins over to Louie, who Webby could tell was trying very, very hard not to look absolutely flabbergasted by the amount of money in front of him. He caught the coin and held it up to his eye, turning it around slowly. 

“That—yeah, that’s real,” he muttered in awe. “Well, Mr. Drake, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Graves nodded; he closed the chest and handed it to Doofus, who brought it over to Louie. At the same time, Graves stalked forward and grabbed Webby’s cage, lifting her up onto his shoulder in an impressive display of raw athleticism.

“Hey!” Webby cried as she was picked up. “Careful, you ugly meat sack!”

“Quiet, beast, or I’ll take one of your scales as a souvenir,” Graves warned. 

Webby grumbled under her breath, but didn’t say anything else as she was carried away towards the other side of the clearing. She cast a glance over her shoulder; Louie and Dewey were carrying the chest of gold back to the treeline as fast as they could, while Huey watched their retreat. He caught her eye as she looked back, and flashed her a shaky thumbs-up. 

“What was that?” Doofus said.

The procession stopped. They were a few meters from the brush. “What was what, sir?” Graves asked.

“I thought I saw something moving in the bushes,” Doofus said, peering forward. “It’s gone now, though…”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Graves said, picking up the pace. “Let’s hurry back to the estate.”

As they passed into the woods, Webby scrutinized the area Doofus had been looking at. She nearly jumped as her eyes caught something shifting amongst the shadows, but when she focused on it, there was nothing there. The leaves must have been playing tricks on them—whatever it was, it was creepy.

She shuddered, letting out a breath. She had to keep her mind sharp; she was on her own, now.

* * *

Penumbra watched as Magica, Glomgold, and Beaks disappeared over a hill crest, heading off towards the town. Lunaris was leaning against the railing a ways off, inspecting the vase that Magica had given him. The waves crashed across the hull of the Dark Eclipse and onto the shore of the beach, and Lunaris’s fingers tapped and scraped against the ceramic as he slowly turned the vase over in his hands, but other than that and a few stray bird calls, everything was almost oppressively quiet. 

Not that it was usually too lively on the ship anyway. Sure, Glomgold was very often drunk and thus very often loud, and the card games that Lunaris and Beaks played could get heated, but Magica overall had very little tolerance for nonsense; and the _last_ thing that _any_ of them wanted to do was upset Magica.

Kind of ironic that a pair of teenage girls had more balls than all the rest of them in that regard. Penumbra had no choice but to respect Violet and Lena for jumping ship when they did—but, she supposed she had already been holding them in higher regard than most of her company around here. They hadn’t exactly been _friends_ —even acquaintances would be pushing it, to be honest. She had thanked Violet for cooking every time it came for a meal, and after a few months Violet had apparently warmed up to her enough to start saying “you’re welcome” in return, but outside of that and working on the ship together, she could probably count on one hand the amount of times they’d talked.

And Lena… had her own thing going on. Penumbra let out a shudder. When she and Lunaris had banded up with Magica, it had been surprising enough to find a little girl on the crew; having her refer to Magica, the Shadow Queen with a bounty high enough to fill the ocean with gold, as ‘Aunt Magica’ was jaw-dropping. And then seeing her phase in and out of the darkness and spew goopy shadows everywhere when her hand got chopped off honestly felt more like a fever dream than anything else. So they hadn’t talked much either.

Honestly, even Lunaris wasn’t that great at holding a conversation; he’d given her everything she had, had _saved_ her from a life of begging on the streets, basically, but… sometimes, he just seemed too cold. Too calculating. 

She hadn’t really been able to connect with anyone on this ship. Well, except for… 

_Magica’s plan is going to backfire._ Della’s voice rang out loud and clear in Penumbra’s head, as if she were standing right next to her, instead of lying someone on the bottom of the ocean by now. _Trust me. You don’t be on her side when all of that goes down._

Penumbra sighed, walking over and flopping down on a nearby crate. She turned to look at Lunaris; alert as ever, he noticed her gaze, and flicked his eyes over to meet hers. She quickly looked away.

“Something on your mind, Penumbra?” Lunaris asked. 

“I… guess, yeah,” Penumbra said. “Do you ever feel that maybe, I don’t know… that following Magica like this might be a bad idea?”

“On the contrary,” Lunaris said without hesitation. “You’ve seen the things that woman is capable of. I think following her is the single quickest shortcut to power there is.”

“But she’s insane,” Penumbra said. “You know that, right?”

Lunaris scoffed. “Of course I know that. I’m not an idiot. But for every hundred crazy people that kill themselves searching for ultimate power, there’s always one who succeeds. Magica de Spell is that person, and I’m going to keep drinking from this well until it runs dry.”

“And once it does?” Penumbra asked. “Stick around a loose cannon too long, and one day it’ll backfire.”

“We’ll be well on our way by then, Penumbra,” Lunaris assured. “You trust me, right? Of course you do. So just stick with me, and everything will go swimmingly, regardless of our Captain’s capricious temper. When have I ever led you astray?”

 _That’s what I’m trying to figure out,_ Penumbra thought, but instead, she just said, “I’ll be right back,” before making her way over to the hatch.

“Mmhmm,” Lunaris acknowledged idly, still staring at the vase.

 _Seriously, Penny. Those kids had the right idea,_ said Della’s voice in her head. _Get out while you still can._

Penumbra gave Lunaris one last look over her shoulder before heading below deck.

* * *

The forest around Lena was dark. This was, perhaps, to be expected, considering it was night and all, but no—the forest was _especially_ dark to her, murky and globby and full of twisting black aberrations. Even Webby, sitting above her and twisting her wrists against their ropes as she was carried through the trees, was barely recognizable, nothing more than a dark pink blob in the shape of a cute little mermaid as Lena looked up at her from her shadow.

This was just _insurance._ If everything went according to plan, Webby wouldn’t ever know she had been here, and wouldn’t ever know she was a shadow monster. Once Webby broke herself out, Lena would slither off behind a tree somewhere, reform, and join back up with them.

But if things _didn’t_ go according to plan… well. Lena wasn’t going to let _anything_ happen to Webby, even if that meant Webby wouldn’t want anything to do with her anymore. Part of her was optimistic about how Webby would take the whole ‘shadow monster’ thing, but Violet had taken _months_ to warm up to Lena’s shadowy side; if she hadn’t been stuck on a ship with Lena, she probably would’ve gotten as far away as possible. Of course, the whole ‘my aunt was going to murder your family’ thing probably hadn’t helped, but still—the point was that there was a non-zero chance that Webby would be horrified to learn of Lena’s true nature, and even if she wasn’t, she still probably wouldn’t want to _date_ a shadow construct. 

That was all hypothetical, though. Probably, hopefully, everything would go smoothly, and Lena’s secrets would stay secrets, and everything would be fine. 

But Lena couldn’t exactly try to start a relationship with Webby _without_ telling her about the shadow thing, either, she supposed. That would be dishonest. But she _really_ liked Webby, in a kind of “didn’t know it was possible for her to like someone this much” way. God, this was all so stupid. It was just so fucking stupid! She was _stupid,_ and her feelings were also _stupid_ and should _die_ before they made Lena do something even _more_ stupid!

 _“Woah.”_ Webby said, her voice garbled from Lena’s position in her shadow. _“That’s a really big house.”_

Lena looked up, pulled from her thoughts. Well, ‘looked’ was a bit of stretch, she supposed; she didn’t have eyeballs at the moment. Regardless, she shifted her focus and took in the shape of a huge, looming mansion built in the middle of the woods. It _was_ pretty impressive, Lena had to admit—was that a _water slide_ looping around the outside?

 _“Mmm, thank you,”_ Doofus Drake sleazed. His voice sounded just as snotty and horrible through the shadow, much to Lena’s disappointment. _“It’s worth twice as much as you are.”_

 _“I’m worth more than you could ever_ imagine, _you twerp!”_ Webby snapped.

Lena was inclined to agree. Falcon Graves banged harshly on the side of the cage, though, and Webby shut up obediently, crossing her arms with a huff. 

They were quickly carried into the mansion, passing several guards on the way in. They were carried past gold-framed portraits, mahogany furniture, and sharply-dressed house staff, until they finally arrived in a large circular room somewhere on the third story. There was something strange about the walls; they seemed to shift and warp as Lena looked at them, and small blotches of darkness zipped across them, but it was hard to make out what exactly she was looking at through the shadow’s distortion.

 _“Wow, this is amazing!”_ Webby exclaimed despite herself. _“It’s like you have a little mini ocean inside your house!”_

Ocean…? Lena gasped—or, would’ve, if she had lungs at the moment. The walls looked like that because they were holding _water._

 _“It’s called an aquarium,”_ Doofus said. _“I collect many rare sea creatures; the twenty-four karat goldfish, the triple-toxic tilapia, the murder eel of certain doom… But they’re all so boring compared to you, my precious mermaid. Are you excited to join them?”_

 _“I mean, some of them look tasty, I guess,”_ Webby admitted. 

_“Do_ not _eat any of my other pets!”_ Doofus said, raising his voice. _“I forbid it!”_

_“Yeah? You gonna stop me?”_

_“Hmmph! Graves, watch her while I go track down a butler so he can track down a nail file.”_

_“Of course, Mr. Drake,”_ said Graves. 

Doofus left the room, and Lena saw Webby’s claws shift ever-so-slightly in her bonds. Graves let out a sigh and looked away for a split second, and that’s when Webby struck—in one smooth motion, her talons ripped through the ropes tying her up and shot out through the bars of the cage, piercing Graves’ three-piece suit and digging into his skin. He grunted in pain and slapped her hands away, stumbling backwards woozily; Webby took the opportunity to whirl around on her tail, her claws ripping through the deceptively hollow metal bars around her. The top half of the cage collapsed onto her, and she rolled back onto her palms, launching the stray metal into Graves’ face with a powerful thrust of her tail.

Graves staggered back, but managed to stay on his feet. The neurotoxin in Webby’s claws was certainly taking a toll on him, but he was apparently too big for a single dosage to knock him unconscious like it had with Lena’s crew. He lurched forward with a gritty cry, drawing a large club from his belt. He took a hefty swing at Webby’s head, but she nudged the club off course with a flick of her tail, sending the already disoriented Graves reeling. Then she launched off her palms, wrapped her tail around his neck, swung over his shoulder, and raked several gashes down his back with her talons. 

That did it. Graves’ spluttered noises of frustration quickly turned into unintelligent garbling as he lost motor function, and he collapsed onto the floor of the aquarium in a heap.

 _“Ha! Stupid falcon,”_ Webby said triumphantly. _“That’s what you get!”_

Lena smiled internally; she should’ve known Webby would be able to handle things just fine without her.

 _“Ack! Is that a_ mermaid?!” 

Webby, and by extension Lena, turned to face the new voice. Lena could make out two figures standing in the doorway—one was tall and lanky, and the other was short and round. Both carried cutlasses. She heard Webby groan with frustration.

 _“Holy shit, I think it is,”_ said the tall skinny one. _“We could make a killing off of her! I_ knew _this was the right house to rob."_

Webby cracked her knuckles. _“Speaking of killing…”_

The short round one scoffed. _“Well, what are ya waitin’ for, Beaks? Get ‘er!”_

Fear pierced through Lena’s heart, and the shadows around her started to pound against her mind. Had he said ‘Beaks?’ And those voices—even from within the shadow, they’d sounded familiar— _too_ familiar—and if _those_ idiots were here, that meant—

_MAGICA._

Lena screamed, and the murky black darkness sloughed off of her form as she rose out of Webby’s shadow.

“Lena?” Webby exclaimed.

“Wh—the kid?!” Beaks shouted. “What are you—”

Lena let out a roar, grabbed her amulet, and flared her magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then I never updated the fic again :)
> 
> Just kidding, I'll see you next week. Thanks for reading!


	12. A Side to Me That Isn't So Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selene, Scrooge, and Lena all meet up with old friends.

Bentina Beakley, Matriarch of the Mermaids, surged through the ocean, face set. They’d sent scouting teams out to all the nearby islands, but Beakley, Selene, and a sizable entourage of mermaids were heading out towards Cape Suzette; due to population statistics and the direction that Selene claimed the ship had been headed, it had seemed the most likely destination. And Beakley was fully prepared to turn the whole town upside down if that’s what it took to find Webby.

But while they were still a few hours out from the shore, Beakley felt something shift in the currents. She stilled in the water, closing her eyes and focusing, until… there. She thrust her trident out in a seemingly random direction in front of them. “There’s a stray mermaid swimming towards us a ways off,” she announced.

Next to her, Selene paused. “But… there shouldn’t be any teams out ahead of us,” she said. “Could it be Webby?”

“…I don’t know,” Beakley said, her face contorted in concentration. She could sense motion in the water from a great distance, and while the pattern of disturbances in the current matched up with a mermaid swimming towards them, it was impossible even for her to make out any fine details. “We should investigate. After me.”

Beakley shot off again towards the lone mermaid, and as they got closer, she slowly came into view. She had hair that went just past her shoulders, a pair of leather goggles over her eyes, and was missing one of her tail fins. It wasn’t any mermaid Beakley recognized.

Selene gasped. “Della?”

Della turned, and also gasped. “Selene? What are you doing here?”

“You know her?” Beakley asked gruffly.

“The heiress got kidnapped by pirates,” Selene explained to Della, ignoring Beakley. “Kind of my fault, actually, but, you know.”

“Whaaaaat? That’s  _ crazy,” _ Della said, smiling dumbly. “I  _ also _ got kidnapped by pirates! I had to use the Key to escape!”

Beakley let out a hum—a Pelagic Key. That explained it. One of Selene’s  _ land-dweller _ friends, then. At least she might be of use to them.

Beakley cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Della. I am Bentina Beakley, Matriarch of the Mermaids. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

Della’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, um—it’s an honor! Should I be bowing? I don’t know how to bow underwater, I’m really sorry.”

“You—no. It’s quite alright,” Beakley assured. “You’re coming from Cape Suzette, right?”

“Just offshore of it, but yeah,” Della said with a nod. “That’s where the pirates that kidnapped me were headed.”

“And did they have any other prisoners?”

“I don’t think so,” Della said. “At least, not unless they had a second brig.” She frowned. “I’m really sorry, but I have no clue where your granddaughter could be. After Magica took me prisoner, I—”

Beakley, and all the mermaids around them, froze stock-still.

“Um.” Della looked between all their faces nervously. “I take it you’re not huge fans?” 

“Magica?” Selene asked softly, the first to find her voice. “As in—as in de Spell?”

A low growl reverberated through the ocean as Beakley narrowed her eyes. Her fangs ground together, and her grip on her trident tightened until her claws started hurting; the water around her hands began swirling, tiny whirlpools forming and dying out like popcorn around her as she seethed. “And she’s in Cape Suzette?”

“I—I think so, yeah,” Della said, regarding Beakley nervously. “She’s after Scrooge McDuck. The Navy Admiral?”

“I know him, yes,” Beakley said, radiating out a molten calmness. She turned to face the battalion of mermaids with her, trying not to look  _ too _ bloodthirsty. “Did you all hear that? Prepare yourselves; we have a lead.”

* * *

Scrooge mentally prepared himself as he stepped into the lobby of Cape Suzette’s Navy outpost. “You two stay here,” he said, looking at Gyro and Fenton, who had accompanied him into the building. “It’ll just be a second while I meet with the Vice Admiral.”

“Mmhmm,” Gyro said absently, sitting down in one of the provided waiting chairs. “Good luck.”

Scrooge rolled his eyes.  _ “Thanks.” _

He breezed past the security and into the proper building, all the soldiers diligently stepping out of his way, all the way up until he reached the door to the Vice Admiral’s office. He let out a breath and pushed it open.

Gladstone Gander was inside, sitting at his desk. He was whistling a chipper tune to himself as he scratched away at some paperwork. Scrooge cleared his throat, and Gladstone looked up.

“Ahaha, Scrooge!” he greeted, setting down the papers and spreading his arms out wide in greeting. “So good to see you! What brings you?”

“Vice Admiral,” Scrooge greeted tersely. “Are you aware that Magica de Spell is on your island right now?”

“Ahaha, no!” Gladstone said, eyes going wide. “Not at all! Oh my god?”

“Well, she is,” Scrooge said. “She captured Della and told me to meet her here by possessing a dying man.”

“Oh my god?” Gladstone repeated.

“Have you noticed anything strange going on in the town lately?”

“Magica de Spell? For real? You’ve got the coin, still, right?”

Scrooge rolled his eyes, patting a finger over the single gold piece that was hanging around his neck, concealed under his uniform. “Yes, of course I still have the coin. That doesn’t mean she’s not still a  _ threat. _ So let me ask you this again—has there been anything strange going on in Cape Suzette the past few days?”

Gladstone rubbed his chin. “Well, now that you mention it, there have been some rumors going around about someone called the ‘Green Baron.’ We haven’t had much time to look into it, but apparently he’s a rare creatures trafficker pretty well known for delivering.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of any  _ Green Baron, _ and I’ve been around the block a good few times myself,” Scrooge said.

“I wouldn’t put too much stake into it either,” Gladstone admitted with a shrug. “If the rumors are true, then the baron is trying to pawn off a  _ mermaid.  _ And I think we both know how unlikely that is.”

Scrooge nodded. “Indeed. Well, unless—” Scrooge’s eyes went wide. “Della has a pelagic key.”

Gladstone raised an eyebrow. “A whoozit?” 

“And Magica  _ captured _ Della!” Scrooge went on, ignoring Gladstone. “The  _ Green Baron— _ such a dumb name, it’s  _ got _ to be that idiot Glomgold throwing up a cover! He’s making a ruckus by touting a captured mermaid around everywhere to draw my attention while  _ Magica _ goes about and does whatever she likes! Well  _ I’ll put a stop to it!” _

“I am so lost,” Gladstone said. “But I’m happy for you! You go and put a stop to her.”

Scrooge whirled about, stalking out of the office. “I shall! Just you wait!”

“Do you even know where you’re going?”

“Don’t you worry, nephew,” Scrooge said. “I’ve got a nose for trouble, an ear for distress, and a taste for  _ danger.” _

“…Right,” Gladstone said. “Well, I think I’m just gonna sit here and ride this out. I’ll probably be fine. Anyway, good luck!”

Scrooge rolled his eyes. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

He met back up with Gyro and Fenton in the lobby of the navy base, but barely got two words out before someone barged through the main doors, looking panicked.

“There’s a break-in at the Drake estate!” he shouted. “Quick! We need crews out there stat! You know what’ll happen if Mr. Drake is upset with us!”

“Ah, a classic front-seat robber and back-seat clobber strategy,” Scrooge hummed, scratching his chin. “I wonder how the  _ Green Baron _ plays into it.” He turned to Gyro. “Gearloose; take the boys and investigate that robbery. It’s a distraction, but we might be able to catch a few of her crew if we’re careful.”

“And what about you, sir?” Fenton asked.

Scrooge smirked. “I’ve got a date with the Queen herself.”

* * *

“Ack! Is that a mermaid?”

Webby groaned, turning to face the two new faces in the doorway— _ pirates _ . Of course the mansion she was taken to was getting  _ robbed _ while she was trying to break out; didn’t that Doofus guy have better security?

“Holy shit, I think it is,” said the tall skinny one. “We could make a killing off of her! I  _ knew _ this was the right house to rob.”

Webby cracked her knuckles. She didn’t have time for this. “Speaking of killing…”

The short one in the plaid hat scoffed. “Well, what are ya waitin’ for, Beaks? Get ‘er!” 

The pirates started running into the room, and Webby prepped her stance, but before they got close, they were all thrown into stunned hesitance by a horrific, shrill  _ screech _ as a large mass erupted from Webby’s shadow. It was covered in a dark, almost oily film, but that quickly washed away, sloshing back into Webby’s shadow to reveal— 

“Lena?” Webby exclaimed.

“Wh—the kid?!” the one called Beaks shouted. “What are you—”

Lena let out a roar, and grabbed her amulet. Webby backed up, stumbling over Falcon Graves’ prone form as Lena rose a few inches into the air, her hair whipping about wildly in a sudden wind, her eyes glowing an oppressive neon purple. She threw out a hand towards the pirates and clenched her fist.

One second, the plaid one was standing upright, sword at the ready, and the next, his face was buried halfway deep into the tiled floor, accompanied by a shattering crash and a cloud of dust and debris. Beaks yelped, taking one look at his unconscious companion and one look at Lena, before darting off down the hall.

He didn’t get far. Lena thrust out her other hand, and he was plucked off the ground, surrounded in an eerie purple glow. Then Lena pulled back her arm, and Beaks zoomed through the air back into the room, his neck perfectly slotting into Lena’s firm grip.

“H-hey?” Beaks choked out weakly. “Long time no see?”

Lena was full on  _ growling.  _ “Tell me where you docked the ship,” she demanded.

“The—the southwest side of town. Behind a cliff face.” He gulped. “What are you gonna—”

Lena chucked him into the wall, hard enough to crack the aquarium’s glass and start a small leak. Beaks didn’t get up after that.

“Lena? What’s going on?” Webby asked, regarding her with nervous eyes. “Were you in my shadow that whole time? How—how did you do that?” She supposed it could’ve been the amulet’s magic again, but the way she’d come out of Webby’s shadow—there had been a moment, before she had returned to normal, where Webby caught sight of something…  _ different. _ It had just been for a second, but it had looked like someone had built a doll out of staticky black goop. 

“I—it doesn’t matter,” Lena said, looking around. Her eyes were back to normal, now, at least. “We need to get out of here.”

Webby nodded—exfiltration first, asking about cool shadow powers and absurd violence later. “There are some people shouting a few floors down,” Webby supplied. “I don’t know if you can hear it or not, but they know something’s wrong. Could you… blast a hole in the wall? We could probably climb down the side of the mansion.”

Lena bit her lip. “Big blasts are really inefficient. I want to save as much magic as possible in case…” She shook her head. “Later. Right now we just need a distraction. Think you can break that glass?”

She gestured over her shoulder to the cracked aquarium wall. A small puddle had formed on the ground under the leak, steadily growing in size.

Webby smirked. “On it.” She reached down, grabbed Falcon Graves’ unconscious body by the ankles, and swung him around with a grunt. She let go at just the right time, launching him with herculean force into the already-damaged aquarium wall. The glass shattered easily, sprinkling down onto the floor like lacerating snowflakes, and the rush of water filled her ears.

“HOLD ON!” she screamed, grabbing Lena’s arms and guiding them to her shoulders right as the torrent of water crashed into her. Webby immediately tuned into the currents, swimming with the water as it flooded out of the aquarium and barreled down the halls. There was a balcony overlooking the main entry hall a small ways away, and Webby easily hopped the railing, stray droplets of water spraying from her tail in an iridescent stream as she arced through the air.

“Don’t let her get away!” squeaked the unmistakable voice of Doofus.

Webby chanced a glance over her shoulder to see him glaring over the railing at her, sopping wet, face red as a tomato. Webby blew a raspberry at him. “What did I tell you? I’m not your pet, you jerk!”

_ “AFTER THEM!”  _ Doofus screeched at the guards standing in front of the main door. Looks like the pirates had taken a subtler route in, as there were still plenty of people guarding the exit. 

Good—it was more fun that way. 

Lena leapt from Webby’s back, and Webby giggled to herself as she hit the ground, tucking into a roll. She popped out of the somersault and threw herself at one of the guards, slapping his sword away with the armored scales on her tail and delivering a harsh elbow to his face that left him grounded. She landed on her opposite hand just as another pair of guards approached her; she struck out at the closest one with her claws, raking his calf and immobilizing him with her toxins, and then bounced over the head of the second one, hooking her tail under the guard’s chin as she went and suplexing him into the floorboards.

She met up with Lena just outside the mansion’s front doors—she was standing over the unconscious, bleeding forms of several more guards, all suffering from not exactly  _ deadly _ but certainly serious wounds. 

She sheathed her cutlass and ran over to Webby. “C’mon, Pink.”

That was all the warning Webby got before Lena picked her up bridal-style, running off towards the woods. 

“Wh—I can  _ walk,  _ you know!”

“You literally don’t have legs,” Lena said, leaping over a bush as she wove her way through the trees.

“I can! On my hands!” Webby protested. “You’ve seen me do it, like, a million times!”

“Running’s quicker,” Lena said simply.

Webby harrumphed, but conceded the point.

After a couple more minutes of sprinting, Lena finally came to a stop, setting Webby down. “This should be far enough,” she huffed, catching her breath.

“Right.” Webby looked around awkwardly, and clicked her tongue. “Soooo… you can hide in people’s shadows?”

Lena looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I—yeah. Magic amulet, remember?” She flicked the gem hanging around her neck, and it let out a bright  _ tink. _

Webby’s mind flashed back to the version of Lena she’d seen back in the mansion, and Lena’s poem.  _ Of borrowed Flesh, from Shadows born…  _ She knew there was more to it than just ‘magic amulet’; Lena was hiding something from her. But that was something she could press about once they were back on the ship.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s kind of creepy,” Lena went on. “I just wanted to make sure you got out of there okay. If you had gotten captured for real, I…” 

“But I didn’t, I got out! We both did—together!” Webby smiled. “Thanks, Lena.”

“Uh, yeah.” Lena ran her fingers through her hair. “You’re welcome.” 

“So who were those guys?” Webby asked. 

“Who?”

Webby furrowed her eyebrows. “The… ones you went all ‘evil wizard’ on? You buried one into the floor and interrogated the other before chucking him into a wall?”

“Oh, right.  _ Those _ guys.” Lena’s face fell. “They’re members of my old crew.”

Webby frowned; Lena had mentioned her and Violet’s old crew in passing a couple times, but she’d always been incredibly vague about it. “Your old crew?” she repeated dumbly. She didn’t really know what else to say.

“Yeah. Not good. We need to meet back up with the others and get out of here,  _ now,” _ Lena stressed. 

“What’s so bad about your old crew?” Webby asked. “You completely trashed those guys back in the mansion.”

“It’s not the  _ crew _ I’m worried about,” Lena stressed. “It’s—”

“Well, well, well.” 

The voice snapped through the air, and Webby saw Lena freeze up, her breath hitching in her throat. Webby heard the rustle of leaves, and turned to watch as a tall woman with sleek black boots, dark clothes, and a long, black cape stepped out of the trees, crossing her arms and tapping a finger against her biceps. Webby’s attention was immediately grabbed by the twin scabbards on her belt, and her fierce green irises.

“I’m disappointed,” said the woman. “Here I was, trying to find good old Scrooge, and instead I run into this  _ filth.” _

“…Lena?” Webby asked. “Who is this?” 

“She’s—” Lena gulped. “She’s Magica. My old captain.”

Webby’s eyes widened.

“Old captain? Really?” Magica scoffed, sliding a pair of long, glowing swords out from the scabbards with a metallic  _ shhhhlink _ . Her beak curved up into a horrid, manic grin. “You’ve got it wrong, sweetie. I’m your  _ master.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for that cliffhanger. If it makes you feel better, next week's chapter is gonna be a _doozy_.


	13. What I Wouldn't Give

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magica makes herself known. Lena wishes she'd just be forgotten.

“You thought you could get away from me, Lena?”

Webby clenched her fists and set her teeth as she watched Magica de Spell stalk forward, twirling her swords around in loose circles. Her expression was darkly amused, her eyes cutting through the dark of the night.

“You thought you could  _ escape _ me? You  _ belong  _ to me.”

“No—no she doesn’t!” Webby spoke up, baring her teeth in a hiss.

Magica turned to her. “Why, Lena, you found yourself a pet! How cute. I guess the mermaids have finally decided to stop hiding themselves away; today is just  _ full  _ of surprises.”

“I’m not a pet, and you’re not her master!” Webby shouted. “You can’t just own people like that!”

“Aww, has she not told you yet?” Magic cooed. “Lena isn’t a  _ person. _ She’s just a shadow—she’s  _ nothing. _ ” She scoffed. “Honestly, I’m impressed she managed to trick a mermaid into working for her. Maybe she picked up some of my lessons over all those years after all.”

Webby shot a glance over to Lena, who was breathing heavily. “Lena? What’s she talking about?”

“I—it’s—” Lena’s eyes flicked between Webby and Magica, trembling. “Don’t listen to her, she’s—”

“What?  _ Lying?” _ Magica cut in, leaning forward with a reptilian smirk. “What’s the truth, then, Lena? That you’re  _ not _ a monster? That you’re just a normal duck like the rest of us?  _ HA!” _

_ “Shut up!” _ Lena cried, taking an aggressive stance. “I never tricked her! We’re friends!”

“Oh, you’re  _ friends,” _ Magica sneered, her smile vanishing. “Riiiight. Is that right, fish?”

She turned on Webby, now, who bristled. “We  _ are _ friends, you jerk! I swear, if you hurt her—”

“You should be more worried about who  _ she’s  _ going to hurt,” Magica said, taking a step forward. “I’m sure your  _ great friend _ Lena here told you all about herself, right? All about the  _ shadow mass _ bouncing around inside of her, just  _ bursting _ to get out! All about how she’s created from stray scraps of forgotten consciousness! All about how  _ I _ was the one who summoned her to this world, how  _ I _ was the one who gave her that  _ flesh and blood _ she’s borrowing for her  _ sorry excuse of a body, _ all about how  _ I’M  _ the one who has all of her  _ MAGIC!” _

Magica punctuated the sentence by thrusting her blades into the dirt; their bright glow darkened to an eerie black, and shadows shot out across the ground towards Webby. She let out a yelp and tried to jump away, but the shadows peeled up into the air after her. They wrapped around her body and yanked her back down to the earth, the twigs and rocks stabbing painfully into her back as she slammed into the ground with a grunt.

_ “Webby!” _ Lena screamed. Tears began bubbling in her eyes, and she turned a hateful look up towards Magica. “What’s your problem?! Why can’t you just leave me  _ alone?!” _

“Aw, is someone upset that I spilled her dark secret to her ‘friend?’” Magica laughed, yanking her swords out of the dirt. “She would’ve found out on her own anyway, you know. But I can see why you would want to hide it; who would want to be friends with a  _ monster?” _

“SHUT  _ UP!” _ Lena screamed. “SHUT UP, SHUT UP,  _ SHUT UP!” _

“Lena, don’t listen to—mmph!” Webby’s voice was promptly muffled as shadows clamped over her beak. She struggled and screamed, but they held tight. Lena didn’t even notice, too distracted by Magica.

“Just come back to me, Lena,” Magica said softly, re-sheathing her swords. “Back to where you’re  _ useful. _ Nobody wants to be  _ friends _ with someone like you; they’ll either abandon you when they find out who you are, or  _ use _ you, like that other brat you ran off with.”

“Violet’s not  _ using _ me!” Lena protested. “She’s my sister!”

Magica cackled. “Oh, yes, I’m sure she is! I’m sure she’s told you all about how happy you’ll both be once  _ you _ help  _ her _ get back to your family. Am I right?”

Lena just stared, her face contorted in anger, her fists trembling. 

“I’m sure,” Magica continued, “that her parents would be  _ thrilled _ to have a shadow monster living under their roof. I’m sure she wouldn’t cast you out as soon as you’re no longer useful. Because  _ she’s _ not like all the others. Because  _ she’s _ nice to you.” 

She took a step forward; Lena stumbled back, falling to the ground, her mouth moving without forming any words.

“Well  _ GUESS WHAT?!” _ Magica screamed, reaching down and grabbing Lena’s amulet, ripping it off of her neck. Lena gasped, but made no effort to stop her, sitting there shaking on the grass. “The world doesn’t  _ WORK _ like that! Open up your eyes, idiot! She’s using you; that’s what happens when you’ve got power! At least I’m up front about it!” The amulet transformed in her grip, extending out into a long, gnarled staff. “You don’t belong in this world, Lena. You know that. I know that. Violet knew that. And now”—Magica stuck a thumb out towards Webby— _ “she _ knows it too. So stop  _ kidding _ yourself and come back with me; finish serving out your  _ real  _ purpose.”

Suddenly, there was the sound of something shattering, and shards of painted ceramic tumbled out from under Magica’s cloak. She held up her staff, which was pulsing with a dull red energy, letting out a high-pitched wail as it did.

Magica froze, eyes widening. “The alarm—Lunaris broke the vase. The  _ ship!” _ She turned on Lena. “Did you know about this?! Why are you in Cape Suzette, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re working with  _ Scrooge!” _

Lena choked on her words, letting out nothing more than a few hoarse vocalizations.

“Well?!” Magica seethed, delivering a sharp kick to Lena’s side with her boot. “Answer me!”

Lena whimpered and curled up on the ground, holding herself tightly and refusing to look up at Magica. Webby screamed and fought against the shadows binding her, but they only grew tighter.

“Ugh! You pathetic little  _ louse!”  _ Magic fumed. “Fine! Stay here and cry your heart out—I have more important things to attend to.”

She let out a final huff before pointing her staff at them. With a burst of purple energy, a large glowing cage sprouted up around them, trapping them there in the forest. Lena hardly seemed to notice, though; she had her eyes shut tight, and was rocking back and forth, clutching harshly at her head.

Webby watched as Magica disappeared in a burst of purple lightning, shooting off into the sky, and then started struggling as hard as she could. Lena needed her right now; she wasn’t going to let a few shadows hold her down. She strained and pulled and grunted and yelled, and eventually, one of the shadow-ropes snapped, dissolving into a grey dust. She clawed and wrestled with the others, and eventually she had snapped enough that with a flex of her tail, she broke all the rest at once. 

Freed from her bonds, she tackled the cage next, but let out a yelp as it zapped her hand on contact. She grimaced and rubbed at her claws; she didn’t exactly know how to deal with a magic cage. 

But maybe Lena would. 

“Lena?” she called softly, moving across the forest floor to the other side of the cage. “Lena are you okay? I don’t care what she said, I’m still your friend, okay? Lena?”

Lena just shut her eyes tighter. 

Webby took a deep breath, wrapped Lena up in her arms, and began to sing.

* * *

Beakley thrust her trident out, and there was a resounding sound of shattering ceramic as the lone guard on Magica’s ship blocked the attack with some sort of antique vase.

“PENUMBRA!” he screamed, stumbling as the whirlpool that Beakley’s fellow mermaids were stirring up below them threw the ship this way and that. “Where is that woman when I need her?!”

“Give up,” Beakley said calmly, using her trident to push herself closer to the retreating man. “I’m not here to kill  _ you.” _

He dove off to the side, picking up a long, golden spear and holding it at the ready. “I’m afraid I’m not the surrendering type! And good luck if you think you can beat the  _ captain. _ What is this, anyway? Why are mermaids attacking us all of sudden? Are you with the Navy?”

Beakley narrowed her eyes. “You must be new,” she said. “Well, whatever. I’ve killed plenty of surface dwellers before; I don’t mind adding another to the pile.”

The ship balked as the whirlpool below them grew stronger, and Beakley used that opportunity to lunge forward, pushing off the wood with her trident. The man was caught off guard, but managed to step back and move his spear into something that resembled a defensive position; but Beakley simply craned her neck forward, grabbed the shaft of the spear in her teeth, and bit down hard, snapping the weapon in half.

The pirate looked down at his weapon in disbelief for a moment, before hastily bringing up the part of the shaft he was still holding to block a thrust from Beakley’s trident that was aimed right at his throat. Gold clanked against gold, and Beakley followed up the attack with a swipe from her tail that knocked his feet out from under him. Beakley landed deftly on her offhand, but the pirate landed hard on his back. He rolled away and started to get up, but Beakley was faster, striking forward with her trident and catching him in the abdomen with two of the prongs. 

His eyes widened, looking down at the weapon and his quickly-reddening shirt. Beakley yanked her trident back out, and the pirate collapsed to the deck; he was still alive, but those wounds would do him in before too much longer. Beakley had more important prey to worry about first, like—

_ Speak of the Devil, _ she thought as a jet of purple lightning arced over her head and exploded onto the deck, revealing Magica de Spell, her cloak billowing out behind her as she raised a gnarled staff with a glowing purple gem. 

She took one look at Beakley, examined at Lunaris’ prone body, readjusted her footing as the ship rocked from the whirlpool below them, and frowned. “Oh. It’s you. Still mad about those kiddos of yours I killed?” Magica rolled her eyes. “Come on, that was, like, over a  _ decade _ ago.”

Beakley snarled, bared her fangs, and charged.

* * *

“Pretty little seashell, under the sea…    
What precious little secrets would you share with me?   
Pretty little seashell, lost in the sand…    
Would that I could take you to a magical land.”

_ “This is your ship?” Lena asked, walking across the wood and marvelling at all the ropes and sails and masts. “It’s so big…” _

_ “Did I ask you to speak?” Magica hissed, and Lena promptly stopped talking. She didn’t want to make her upset again. _

_ Magica led her down a staircase into the belly of the ship and over to a small cabin with a pair of hammocks and a few sparse furnishings. “Stay here, don’t make any noise, and don’t bother anyone,” she instructed. “If I ever need you, I’ll come get you.” _

_ She pushed Lena into the room, and before Lena could respond, the door slammed shut in her face. _

“Pretty little seashell, hidden from sight…    
When will you decide to return to the light?   
Pretty little seashell, caught in the tide…    
I never thought I’d get to go along for the ride.”

_ It was days later when the door banged open again. Magica was sporting a nasty gash on her shoulder, and her face was contorted in pure rage. _

_ “Your pathetic magic  _ FAILED _ on me, shadow! Are you seeking to  _ sabotage _ me?!” _

_ “N-no!” Lena choked out, her voice weak. “You’re just using a lot of it… and you haven’t given me any food…” _

_ “Of course I haven’t given you any food, you’re a  _ shadow! _ Don’t tell me you still need to eat!” _

_ “Um…” Lena swallowed. If she told Magica the truth, she would probably get mad. But if she didn’t answer, Magica would still get mad. She sighed. “I won’t die if I don’t eat, but I need the energy to keep up my magic. Especially since you use it so often. Also… it hurts…”  _

_ “GRAH!” Magica shouted, slamming a fist against the wall. “You’re such a burden! Well, if I’m going to be  _ feeding  _ you, I might as well get you to pull your own weight. Glomgold and Beaks can start teaching you how to manage the ship. And you better not slack off!” _

_ “Um—yes ma’am,” Lena said softly.  _

“Pretty little seashell, sailing the sea…    
I’ve treasured these adventures that you’ve given to me.   
Pretty little seashell, hurt by the Queen…    
She’ll find out soon enough that I know how to be mean.”

_ Lena groaned internally as the door to her cabin opened, revealing Magica’s sneering face. What did  _ she _ want? Lena had already done all her chores for today. But she tried not to look too bothered as she met Magica’s gaze. _

_ “What is it?” _

_ “You’ve got a roommate,” Magica said, before dragging a girl into view by the arm. She was a head shorter than Lena, dressed in worn sailor’s clothes, and had a full head of curly black hair held back by a bandanna. She looked both around Lena’s age and also incredibly unenthused about being there, which Lena found remarkably relatable. “If she needs anything, she’s to bother you about it, not any of us. Got it?” _

_ “Yes ma’am,” Lena said curtly. _

_ “Good,” Magica spat before sweeping away down the hall. _

_ Lena and the new girl looked at each other. Lena smiled; the girl grimaced. _

_ “Um—” Lena coughed. “Hey. I’m Lena.” _

_ “…Violet,” she said after a moment of hesitance, before walking over to her side of the room and unloading a bag full of books onto her dresser.  _

_ “So… you like to read?” Lena asked as she finished arranging the books. She knew they had just finished raiding a small village, so whatever Violet’s story was, it probably wasn’t very pleasant. _

_ Violet hopped into her hammock, facing away from Lena. “I apologize if I’m not feeling particularly up for a chat right now; I don’t have much experience socializing with monsters.” _

_ Lena blinked. “Well… alright then. Sorry to bother you.” _

_ She didn’t know if Magica had told her about the shadow thing, or if Violet just considered her a monster because she was part of Magica’s crew. Either one would be understandable. But Lena knew better than to ask, and when she heard Violet start to cry softly into her pillow from across the room, she politely didn’t say anything. _

“Pretty little seashell, thrown to the wind…    
Are these woods where you end or where you begin?   
Pretty little seashell, misunderstood…    
I know that I was right to think that you could be good.”

_ Lena stared down in disbelief at the stump on the end of her arm where her hand had been just a few seconds ago. The enemy pirate she had been fighting staggered back from the stab wound Lena had put into his thigh, only to be finished off by a rowdily-shouting Glomgold. Then Lena started screaming. _

_ “Lena!” Violet shouted, kicking the last of the enemy boarders over the railing and rushing over. “Are you okay?! _

_ “Oh, don’t be such a baby!” Magica called. “That’s not even your real body!” _

_ Lena coughed, thick globs of dark, shifting shadows spewing from her mouth. She felt her eyes crying shadows, too. “I’m—fine—” _

_ “Lena, what’s happening?” Violet said, her eyes wide.  _

_ “I’m—GRAH!” She let out another scream as a black light exploded at the stump of her wrist. When the light died, the bleeding had stopped, and there was a smoky black mist covering up the exposed part of her arm.  _

_ With a grunt that expelled even more shadow essence from her beak, she grabbed the severed hand lying on the deck and shoved it back onto her wrist. She could feel shadows running down her face, pouring goopily out of her eyes and nose and mouth, dripping to the wood beneath her as they fled her body. She did her best to ignore that, though, and summoned whatever internal magic she could muster to her hand, stitching the flesh back together with tiny black threads of mana. _

_ “Disgusting,” Magica said, rolling her eyes. “I expect the deck to be cleaned up within the hour. I don’t want to accidentally step in a pile of loose shadows.” She turned and marched over towards her cabin.  _

_ Lena saw Violet stand up, her eyes narrowed angrily, her fists clenched. “You—” _

_ “Vi, no,” Lena garbled, shadows drooling from her mouth and slurring her speech as she spoke. “Not worth it.” _

_ “I—” Violet let out a sigh. “I know. I just can’t stand how she treats you. The sooner we get off this boat, the better.” _

_ Lena nodded in agreement, experimentally rotating and flexing her newly-attached hand. It still hurt, but at least it was functional again. “Come on,” she said, looking at all the shadows strewn about the deck. “We better start cleaning.” _

“Pretty little seashell, kind as can be…    
What makes you care so much for someone foolish like me?   
Pretty little seashell, pure of heart…    
There’s nothing in this world that could tear us apart.”

Lena opened her eyes, and the world came rushing back to her. Someone was holding her, softly singing.

“…Webby?”

Webby started, rolling back on her tail to give Lena space to breathe. “Lena! Are… are you okay?”

“I’m…” Lena looked around. They were still in the forest, surrounded by a large, glowing cage. Magica was gone. Webby looked scared; Lena couldn’t tell if it was of her or for her. “No. Not really.”

“I… Yeah. Me neither,” Webby admitted.

Lena swallowed. “Webby… about that stuff Magica said—”

“I don’t care what Magica said,” Webby insisted. “She’s a horrible, awful person and one day I’m going to rip out her throat with my claws and then throw away her remains, because she’s not even worth a meal.”

“Yeah,” Lena said. She let out a tired giggle. “Yeah.”

_ “But,” _ Webby went on, “if there’s anything  _ you _ want to tell me about yourself, on your own terms, I’d love to learn more about you. Because you’re my friend. Okay?”

“I… Thanks, Pink,” Lena said. “Just, um—one sec.”

Webby smiled at her. “Take all the time you need.” 

It was a couple more minutes before Lena started talking. “There’s… a separate dimension that runs parallel to yours, called the Shadow Realm,” she began. “It’s like an afterimage of the real world—everything’s there, in a sense, but none of it’s real. It’s all just shadows. People’s shadows are there, too, walking around and obediently following the actions of their casters. They’re just projections of magical energy, though. They can’t think or feel or choose.

“When someone dies in the real world, their corresponding projection over in the shadow realm dissipates, scattering out a bunch of free-floating specks of shadow and imprinted consciousness from the soul of the deceased caster. And sometimes, all those little scraps floating around will start clumping together, and then that clump will draw on all the millions of different strands of faded consciousnesses from the dead real people, and it’ll start to develop a unique consciousness of its own. We call that a shadow monster. There’s tons of them lurking around us in the Shadow Realm all the time, observing the world through the reflections our shadows leave behind, unable to ever do more than just watch silently. Some of them are hundreds of thousands of years old.”

“And you’re… one of those?” Webby asked. “But you don’t look like a big clump of shadows or anything. Um, no offense?”

Lena sighed, looking off to the side. “That’s… where Magica comes in. She discovered an ancient ritual that pulls a shadow monster across the Veil and gives it a physical form. In exchange, whoever performs the ritual gains control of all of the monster’s influence over the shadow realm. Magica performed that ritual, and I was the monster she happened to snatch and pull over. I was barely six years old at the time.”

Webby let out a small gasp. “That’s horrible.”

“No, it—well. Magica’s intentions obviously weren’t good, but the ritual requires consent from both parties. She offered me a life, and I took it.” 

“Selfish existence…” Webby mumbled.

Lena’s eyes snapped open. “My—my poem? You read my poems?!”

“Ah!” Webby exclaimed, blushing. “I’m s-sorry! Just that one! I just—I was curious—and—”

“You…” Lena looked at her. “You read that and… stayed?”

Webby’s expression shifted from embarrassed to worried. “Lena… you’re not a monster. You know that, right? And you’re not selfish, either.”

“I  _ literally _ just finished explaining to you that I am  _ literally _ a monster.”

“Yeah, you’re a shadow monster, but you’re not a  _ monster, _ okay?” Webby insisted. “Do you think I’m a monster? I’ve got claws and fangs and a fish tail!”

Lena looked away. “I know what you’re trying to say, Webby, but it’s… it’s not the same. You’re real. I’m not.”

“Why?”

Lena met Webby’s eyes again. “What?”

“Why am I real? Why aren’t you?” Webby demanded. “We’re both here, aren’t we? We both laugh, and cry, and create, and grow. We’ve both hurt people, and we’ve both helped people. Is all of that fake? Is everything we’ve gone through fake? Is everything we  _ feel _ for each other fake?”

Lena opened her mouth, but stopped when she saw the intensity behind Webby’s look. Her jaw was set, her claws were in loose fists by her sides, her tail was slowly swaying back and forth, and her eyes projected such an utter, unshakable confidence that Lena knew she had no answer to her questions. There were no words she could speak here that Webby wouldn’t refute; no argument she could make that she wouldn’t rip to shreds; nothing she could do to convince Webby not to care about her.

And then before she knew it, Webby had her wrapped up in a hug, her face buried against Lena’s neck.

“You’re real to me, Lena,” Webby said. The conviction in her voice was still there, but the edge was gone, replaced with a cool warmth. “You’re real to me.”

And that was it for Lena. She threw herself into Webby, her fingers clutching tight at the cloth wrappings on her back, and began to cry. Lena felt Webby’s tail coil comfortingly around her waist, the smooth scales cool against her skin, holding her snugly as sobs wracked her body. It wasn’t a pretty cry—it was messy and hiccupy and gross, but Webby never even budged an inch, squeezing Lena like the universe would rip her away the second she let go.

“I just—I just want to be able to live,” Lena choked out in between sobs. “That’s all I ever wanted. I never wanted to hurt anyone, or—or to be _ this. _ Why is it so—so  _ hard? _ Why can’t I just be—why can’t I just  _ live?” _

“I don’t know,” Webby admitted. Lena wryly noticed that her voice was a bit strangled, too. “But we’re gonna get through this together. I don’t care how many Magicas come for you, I’ll fight them. I’ll fight them  _ all. _ I’ll tear the  _ world _ apart for you. I’ll tear everything to pieces, and make you the prettiest friendship bracelet you’ve ever seen out of the scraps. You hear me?”

Lena heard her, and nodded, and held her tightly, and continued to mar her pristine, royal feathers with salty tears. “I’m really—I’m really sorry I kidnapped you.” 

Webby giggled. “I think we’re past that.”

“I still—still feel bad, though. You’re the best thing that’s ever h-happened to me. I need you to—to know that.”

And maybe if her eyes hadn’t been clogged with tears, Lena would’ve noticed the electric-blue light emanating from their bracelets. But she didn’t, and instead just stayed there, holding on and being held onto, until she lost track of time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, super special thanks to [Jen-iii](https://jen-iii.tumblr.com/) for her AMAZING art for this chapter. You're the best!!
> 
> I'm probably going to be taking next week off, but I'll see you again soon! I really needed to take a break somewhere, and trust me, this is the least cliff-hangy chapter to leave you guys on for an extra week I could find akshdfgasdjfgsadkjhfsd.


	14. What Makes You Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sunlight Pirates enjoy a night in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we're back into it!! My goal is to stay weekly until the end of the fic; we'll see if I can manage that lmao.

Dewey grunted as he and Huey carried the chest of gold through the woods after their deal with Doofus. They had met back up with Violet once they had reached the treeline, but Lena hadn’t been with her; Violet said she was keeping an eye on Webby to make sure everything went well on that end. 

“Ow!” Dewey exclaimed as his foot slammed into an obnoxiously-placed rock. The moon hung high above, but whoever had come up with the phrase ‘moonlight’ was clearly an idiot, as it was still dark as hell, and he kept stubbing his foot on all the random junk on the forest floor. He let out a hiss, trying to ignore the pain as they continued onwards. “I can’t wait to get out of these stupid woods!”

“Maybe you should stop running into things,” Louie suggested. “Just a thought.”

“It’s dark!” Dewey protested. “And I don’t want to hear that from you, you’re not even helping us carry the chest.”

“Do you expect the _Green Baron_ to do the chump labor?” Louie asked. “I think not.”

Huey let out an exasperated groan. “How long are you gonna keep calling yourself that?”

“Mmm, I dunno.” Louie shrugged. “It’s grown on me. Besides, Violet isn’t helping either, and you’re not complaining about her.”

Violet shot him an inscrutable glance. “That’s because I’m the only one here who knows how to actually fight. If we run into trouble, I need to have my hands free.”

Louie scoffed. “What kind of trouble are we gonna run into in the woods in the middle of the night?”

As if on cue, a tall, purple woman in golden armor stumbled into their path, saw them, and let out a scream. Dewey _also_ let out a scream, jumping backwards and unintentionally leaving Huey with all of the weight of the treasure chest. He strained to hold it up, but he lost the battle and dropped it right on his boot, letting out an anguished cry. Louie winced sympathetically.

The woman was breathing heavily, looking between them all. “Who—Violet?”

“HRAAA!” Violet screamed, launching forward and tackling her roughly to the dirt. 

Louie started, jumping back. “Oh my god!” 

Violet drew her pistol, pointing it straight between the woman’s eyes with frighteningly steady hands. “What are you doing here?!”

Dewey looked between them confusedly. “…Violet?” he asked tentatively. “Who is this?” 

“Penumbra. A member of my old crew.” Violet’s voice was as cold as ice. “And she’s going to tell me why she’s here if she knows what’s good for her.”

Dewey exchanged a concerned look with his brothers; they had _never_ seen Violet like this before. She was always so calm and collected—it was unsettling to see her so rattled.

Penumbra, for her part, seemed to be focused entirely on the gun Violet was holding up to her face. “I-I’m not with Magica any more!” she stuttered out frantically. “I’m here because I’m running away!”

“Oh, sure,” Violet said, narrowing her eyes. “And you just _happened_ to run into us.”

“No, no, I swear!” Penumbra said. “Look, Violet, I know we didn’t talk much but—you and Lena had the right idea. Magica, she’s… I couldn’t stay there anymore. I slipped away from Lunaris after the others left.” 

Louie took a step forward. “Woah, woah, woah—did you say _Magica?”_

“As in _de Spell?”_ Huey added, eyes widening. “As in, _Queen of the Pirates?!”_

“Wait, what?” Dewey asked in disbelief. “Queen of the _what_ now?”

Violet eyes flicked to the triplets for a split second, and she slowly got off of Penumbra—but she kept her pistol drawn. “Later,” she said. “So she’s still in Cape Suzette?”

Penumbra nodded. “She set a trap here for Scrooge McDuck.”

Violet sighed, gritting her teeth. “Shit. Shit shit shit. God, if she finds us—” She turned to them. “We have to get off this island _now.”_

“Wait, _Scrooge?”_ Dewey exclaimed. “Our uncle?!”

Penumbra raised an eyebrow. “Scrooge is your _uncle?”_

“Great Uncle, technically,” Huey supplied, then turned to Violet, who was still mildly freaking out. And for Violet, that was basically revolutionary. “Sorry; your and Lena’s old captain was _Magica de Spell?”_

“I said _later,_ ” Violet snapped, before looking back towards the clearing where the deal had gone down. “We can’t let her find us, we—we _can’t._ I have to warn Lena.”

“You don’t even know where she _is,”_ Louie stressed. “Let’s just stick to the plan and go back to the ship, where it’s safe.”

Violet’s eyes scanned the forest, as if looking for a solution. “I’m—I just—I can’t leave her out there alone,” she said. She let out a sigh. “You guys head back to the ship; secure the gold and make sure we’re ready to set sail at a moment’s notice. I’ll go find Lena.”

Again, Dewey exchanged glances with his brothers. “Well… okay,” he said. “If that’s what you think would be best.”

Louie jabbed a finger over his shoulder towards Penumbra. “What about her?”

Violet’s head snapped back to penumbra, like she had forgotten she was even there. “Uhh… Take her with you.”

“What?” Penumbra took a hesitant step back, unsure. “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” Violet insisted. “None of these guys know the first thing about how to hold up in a fight. Get them back to the ship safely, and you can stay with us for a while, okay?”

“O—Okay?” Penumbra said.

“Great.” With that, Violet turned and ran off into the dark of the woods, the sound of crunching twigs and disturbed leaves fading off into the distance as she went.

After she was gone, Penumbra turned to the rest of them. She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.

Dewey smiled at her. “Hi! I’m Dewey. Huey’s the red one, and Louie’s the green one. We’re part of Lena’s crew.”

Penumbra blinked. “Okay? Lena has a crew now?”

Huey nodded. “We stole our Uncle Donald’s boat and joined up with her and Violet.” 

“So,” Louie interjected. “The Shadow Pirates, huh? One hell of a crew to be deserting from.”

“Um—yeah,” Penumbra said. “Lena never told you?”

“Nope.” Louie shrugged. “Didn’t tell us much of anything, to be honest.”

“She mentioned her old captain a few times, but she never went into specifics,” Huey said.

“That’s… probably for the best,” Penumbra said. “Magica’s bad news.”

“What is…” Dewey nervously averted his gaze, but then took a deep breath, and reasserted it, looking Penumbra right in the eye. “What is she like? Why are Violet and Lena so scared of her?”

Penumbra let out a deep breath. “How about I tell you on the way to the ship?”

* * *

Lena was jolted out of Webby’s embrace by the sound of shattering magic.

“Woah…” Webby mumbled, looking up as the cage that Magica had surrounded them with dissolved, tiny fragments of purple light sprinkling down to the ground, disintegrating as they went. Webby turned to her. “Did you do that?”

“I—” Lena looked around, shakily standing up. “I don’t know.”

“Wait, our bracelets!”

“Huh?” Lena held up her arm; sure enough, the friendship bracelet that Webby had made for her was glowing a fierce blue, in sync with Webby’s own bracelet. Lena raised an eyebrow. “Webby, what did you make these bracelets out of?”

Webby blinked. “Um—just some sort of colorful seaweed I found growing on the ocean floor? It didn’t seem magic or anything.”

“Faerieweed,” Lena said, running a finger over the bracelet. “It’s capable of storing and channeling magical energy. Oh, I _knew_ it! That poem you said when you first gave me this—you imbued them with sympathetic magic!” 

“But… how?” Webby asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not magical.”

“Webby, you are _literally_ a mermaid. You’ve got tons of internal magic. Didn’t your grandmother ever tell you?”

“I mean, _yeah,_ but I didn’t think I could cast spells!” 

“You didn’t, really; your magic bonded with my own internal magic, and created a sympathetic link.”

Webby gasped, twisting forward excitedly and crushing the leaves beneath her. “It’s friendship magic!”

“Um—” Lena giggled a little. “Yeah, sure.”

“Or…” Webby cleared her throat, her claws twiddling in front of her like she didn’t exactly know where to put them. Lena noticed her tail was wagging back and forth a bit, brushing against the dirt. “Or maybe… something more than friendship?”

“What do—” Lena started, and then stopped dead as her brain caught up. _“Oh.”_

She could feel the blush rising to her cheeks. Webby was faring no better, her face uncharacteristically flushed, her eyes meeting Lena’s every so often for a half a second before shooting away to stare at anything else. 

“Do you really, um… yeah?” Lena asked.

“Um—yeah,” Webby said. “I really, uh, do.”

“…Oh,” Lena said, extremely eloquently.

“I mean—well; um.” Webby coughed. “I’ve never, you know, felt, yeah, before, but uh, I’m… pretty sure that it’s, well. Yeah.”

“Yeah, um… yeah, me too,” Lena said. 

Webby perked up. “Yeah?!”

“Yeah,” Lena said, allowing a small smile. “It’s like… I wasn’t even sure if I, like, could, you know, but… you’re just so… you know?”

“Eeeeee!” Webby squealed, flopping over and hugging Lena again. This one was a lot more squeezy than the comforting hug Webby had given during Lena’s flashbacks earlier, but Lena appreciated it nonetheless. “I’m so glad!” She pulled away a bit to look up at Lena, eyes hopeful. “Does this mean we’re…?”

Lena shrugged. “I don’t know? I mean, I guess?”

“Do you… not _want_ to be…?”

“No! I mean—I just never, like… yeah.”

Webby nodded. “Right. We can feel it out.”

“Yeah,” Lena said.

Then there was a sudden crunch of twigs from a ways off, and whatever the hell that conversation had been immediately came to a close as they both immediately shifted into survival mode, Lena drawing her cutlass and Webby crouching low to the earth, ready to spring. 

Then, out from behind a tree, an adult duck in a navy uniform holding a long cane appeared. He frowned as he regarded them, adjusting the tiny spectacles that rested on his beak, and, looking at Webby, said, “You’re not Della.”

“Who’s Della?” Webby asked.

“Better question,” Lena said, narrowing her eyes, “who are _you?”_

“Well, I should be asking ye the same thing, now shouldn’t I?” he said, waving his cane about. “What’s a young girl and a _mermaid_ doin’ out in the middle of the woods at this time of night? _Especially_ when there are rumors floating about a trafficker selling a mermaid tonight!”

“Really?” Lena asked. “We better be careful, then. Thanks for the heads up.”

“That doesn’t answer what you two are doin’ out here,” he said sternly.

Lena gave him her most disarming smile. “Well, you see—”

“We got _super lost!”_ Webby said, throwing out her arms. “Like, wow! Can you believe it?!”

Both Lena and the navy guy looked down at her incredulously. 

The man let out a tired sigh and turned to Lena. “You sticking with that story, lassie?”

“What story? It’s the truth,” Lena said, voice flat. “We just got super lost, good sir. I sure do hope we find our way out of these woods before sunrise, or we’ll worry our parents something awful. Isn’t that right, Anglabeth?”

“Oh, why of course, um, Britannia,” Webby said.

“But what’s a navy soldier doing out here?” Lena asked. Then she noticed the various decorations on his uniform, and her eyes widened. “Oh shit, you’re an _admiral?_ Wait. Scrooge McDuck?”

“Scrooge?” Webby echoed. “Isn’t that who… _she_ was looking for?”

Scrooge narrowed his eyes. “And who’s _she?”_

Lena returned his gaze in equal measure. “Who do _you_ think she is?”

_“LENA?”_

They all turned at the shout—it was a ways off, but Lena knew the voice by heart. “Vi? What’s she doing?”

“Awfully strange way of pronouncing ‘Britannia’, wouldn’t you say?” Scrooge said flatly.

Webby ignored him, turning a worried look on Lena. “You don’t think she ran into—?”

And that was all Lena needed to hear before she took off through the woods. Webby somehow managed to keep pace behind her—maybe she _had_ been underestimating her speed after all, back when they were escaping from the manor. Webby hadn’t put up much of a fight, though; it was almost like she had wanted to be carried.

Lena found herself blushing again, and quickly shook it off.

With a brief look over her shoulder, she noticed that Scrooge was following them too, navigating his way through the brush far more nimbly than Lena would have expected for anyone of his age. He definitely knew that they knew something, and it didn’t look like he was going to give up until he knew, too.

Whatever. The important thing was finding Violet. _“VI?”_

“Lena!”

It was closer this time, and after a few more seconds of running, they nearly smacked into each other between a thick outcropping of trees; probably would have, if Webby hadn’t grabbed the back of Lena’s jacket to stop her. There were no signs of the boys—she was alone.

If Violet noticed Scrooge, she didn’t care, grabbing Lena by the shoulders and speaking in a rush. “Lena, I just ran into Penumbra. She was deserting, but Magica’s _here,_ and—”

“Vi!” Lena interrupted. “Vi, yeah, I know. She… we kind of bumped into each other already.”

Violet’s face dropped like a rock. “You…? Oh my god. Are you okay?”

“I’m—” Lena took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’m okay. She took back the amulet and trapped us, but we managed to get out.”

“We need to leave,” Violet stressed. _“Now.”_

“I know,” Lena said. 

“You’re not going _anywhere_ until you tell me everything you know about Magica de Spell,” Scrooge said, stepping forward.

Violet shot Lena a glance. 

“Scrooge McDuck,” Lena explained.

“Oh,” Violet said. “Well, I know she hates you.”

“Yes, well.” Scrooge let out a breath. “That’s not exactly _news.”_

“Her ship is docked on the southwest side of town, behind a cliff face,” Lena said. “At least all but one member of her crew are indisposed. She has a powerful magical sumerian amulet, and also made a pact with a shadow monster since you last fought her, so she has access to mid-level shadow magic.”

Scrooge rubbed at his chin. “A shadow monster, eh? I presume she is… no longer working with Magica directly?”

Lena held his gaze for a long time. “No. She’s not.”

“Well. Thank you for the information, random, unsuspicious children,” Scrooge said, tipping his hat and twirling his cane as he walked off. “Maybe when our paths cross again, we’ll have more time to chat. But I understand we both have places to be.”

Lena watched him go for a few seconds, before Webby tugged at her sleeve with a soft, “Come on.” 

Lena nodded, reaching down and scooping Webby up once again. She let out a soft _meep_ as Lena lifted her off her fins, but didn’t say anything about how she could walk herself like last time, and just wrapped her arms around Lena’s neck for support. Somehow, despite having razor-sharp claws so close to her throat, Lena felt perfectly safe. 

Violet shot Lena a teasing look as they began running through the forest; Lena broke her gaze. “Shut up. It’s faster.”

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Violet said innocently. “But, since you brought it up—”

_“Violet.”_

“Fine, fine.”


	15. Taking What's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Penumbra talks with the boys. Magica finally gets her rematch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My power went out for like half the day today so this is only edited like one time through; if it seems like there are a lot more mistakes than usual that's why lmao.

Penumbra followed the trio of young pirates through the forest, lugging their freakishly heavy treasure chest in her arms as a show of good faith. And also because she could carry it way faster than them, and she would very much like to get back to their ship as soon as possible. “So… what do you know about Magica already?” she asked.

“She’s the most-wanted pirate in the whole world!” Louie said. “I heard that her bounty alone would set someone and their whole family for life.”

“I know that she’s responsible for sinking at least a hundred Navy ships,” Huey said. “And that she fought Scrooge a long time ago.”

“I heard she’s called the  _ Queen of the Pirates,”  _ Dewey said.

Huey turned a frown on him. “Didn’t you just find that out, like, five minutes ago?”

“She asked us what we knew!” Dewey defended.

“Well… all of that’s right,” Penumbra said, brushing aside a stray branch before it could smack her in the face. “She’s ruled the seas for decades, cropping up right after Glittering Goldie O’Gilt, the previous Queen of the pirates, disappeared. She was a powerful sorceress who possessed the power to hurl spells without a second thought, but Scrooge, determined to capture her, enlisted the mermaids to help track her down, and they managed to ambush her. She got away, but she lost most of her powers after that; Scrooge locked them away inside a gold coin.”

“So… she’s just a regular pirate now, then, right?” Dewey asked.

Penumbra snorted. “Hardly. She found an ancient Sumerian talisman that she’s been using to focus her magic instead.”

“The one Lena stole!” Huey said.

“Yep,” Penumbra said. “At least she doesn’t have that anymore.”

* * *

Beakley let out a cry as a blast of purple energy from Magica’s staff grazed her arm, leaving a scorching burn mark. She didn’t let it faze her, though, and rushed into another flurry of strikes against Magica. Her trident clanged against the sword Magica was wielding in her off hand, and with a wrench of force, Beakley sent it flying from her grip, splashing into the ocean. She moved in to capitalize on the disarm, but Magica’s staff erupted in light, and Beakley was thrown backwards across the length of the deck.

“You know,” Magica said, stalking forward, “I ran into a young mermaid girl just a little while ago, back onshore. I think she might’ve been one of yours.”

Beakley’s eyes widened as she picked herself up. “You saw Webby?” And then all of sudden, the rage came bubbling back up to the surface. “What did you do to her?!”

“Oh, nothing  _ yet,” _ Magica sneered, her grin cleaving across her face. “But it’s nice to know that I’ll be able to  _ single handedly _ end the mermaid’s  _ matriarchal line. _ I’m just finishing what I started, after all—think of it as  _ closure.” _

Beakley let out an animalistic roar, reverberating across the ship, and a pillar of water tore up from the whirlpool below them, ripping through the wood of the hull. The mermaids below were doing a good job of riling up the currents; it was time to put them to use.

Magica let out an indignant shout as another jet of swirling, focused water shot up from the ocean, cutting through the captain’s quarters and tearing a hole in the mainsail. “My ship!” she cried. “Do you know how much this thing costs?! I mean, I stole it, but it’s a lot!”

“Think of it,” Beakley said, eyes narrowing, “as closure.”

* * *

“She used that amulet to start building up her powers again,” Penumbra continued. The woods were thinning out now as they approached the island’s shore, the grass giving way to Cape Suzette’s rocky beaches. “The mermaids who had helped defeat her—she captured and murdered their heiress and her husband as revenge. Never stopped bragging about it.”

Dewey’s face paled. “Webby’s… parents?”

Penumbra raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“We’ll tell you later,” Louie said, giving his brother a concerned look. “So—as long as Magica doesn’t have this amulet, though, she’s powerless?”

“Welllllll…” Penumbra pulled a face. “She  _ also _ made a pact with Lena, who’s a shadow monster, which gives her all of Lena’s control over the Shadow Realm.”

The boys blinked at her. “…Shadow Realm?” Huey asked. “Shadow monster? What—what?”

Oh. Lena hadn’t told them. Well, that made things more complicated. 

She coughed. “So, um… you can ask her more about that in person when they meet back up with us, okay?”

* * *

“You think you’re the only one with tricks up your sleeve?!” Magica sneered as she shielded herself from another torrent of water that threatened to blast her off the deck.  _ “WELL YOU’RE NOT!” _

Magica’s eyes filled with black magic, and Beakley rolled forward as her shadow came to life, standing up from the deck and sweeping out at her with its trident. She grit her teeth as she noticed Magica’s shadow rear up, too, along with Lunaris’s. Beakley was honestly surprised the man wasn’t dead by now; she quickly summoned another water jet from the ocean, which slammed directly into Lunaris’s body and knocked him through the already-splintered forecastle. She and Magica both watched as his shadow fizzled away.

“Oh,” Magica said, looking slightly disappointed. “Whatever! You’re still outnumbered!”

Magica’s shadow rushed her down from the front, wielding a pair of silhouetted cutlasses, while Beakley’s own shadow approached from behind, slithering across the deck on her tail. Beakley huffed and stood her ground, dancing around blade and trident and magical blast as the three of them converged on her. She speared her own doppelganger on one end of her trident and twisted to slap Magica’s shadow across the face with her tail, while summoning up another column of water where Magica was standing, forcing her to dodge. 

The shadows were resilient, though, and quickly reformed to continue fighting. She’d get nowhere dealing with them—she needed to go for the source.

With the whirlpool below them and the giant holes Beakley was putting through the hull, the ship’s infrastructure was quickly failing; she dug deep into the water below her, feeling every stray current and wave, and with a warcry, yanked a massive patch of water right below the stern straight up, pitching the whole ship up on its rear. 

Magica wobbled as the deck under her feet began tilting backwards. “What are you—ung!” She let out a grunt as the floor became too steep, and she fell backwards against the ruined wall of the captain’s quarters.

Beakley stuck her trident into the wood as it rose and watched as the two shadows Magica was controlling tumbled down the deck. The ship creaked and groaned from the strain, and just as it began to capsize, Beakley pushed off, streaking downwards with her trident pointed right at Magica’s chest.

Magica raised her staff, muttered something under her breath, and brought it down with a passion. Beakley only had time to throw her arm and tail up in front of her defensively before a massive purple and black explosion engulfed the ship.

“Long story short,” Penumbra said as a small cutter ship came into sight at the edge of the beach, “you don’t want to fight her if you can help it.”

“Wasn’t planning to,” Louie said.

“Do you think she’ll come after us?” Huey asked as they boarded the ship. “After Lena?”

Penumbra frowned. “It’s hard to say. She was going on nonstop about what she’d do to Lena once she found her, but she’s a lot more concerned with finding Scrooge and getting her magic back.”

“And what happens if she gets her magic back?” Dewey asked as he swung up into the rigging to start unfurling the sails. “Is that, like, game over?”

“Pretty much,” Penumbra said. “I joined her crew long after her fight with Scrooge, but from what I’ve heard… well. Let’s just say I’m totally on board with your game plan of getting as far away as possible.”

* * *

Magica scowled as the dust cleared, using her magic to levitate herself above the wreckage; thanks to that  _ horribly _ violent mermaid, her ship was in  _ total _ ruins. The whirlpool in the ocean that the other mermaids had been making slowed to a halt as they no doubt attempted to figure out who had come out on top.

It was Magica. Magica had come out on top. Magica  _ always _ came out on top. 

She saw hazy shapes dart about far under the water as she floated over to where Bentina Beakley lay, her body limp on a piece of shattered hull. It was smart of them, Magica supposed, not to surface, and instead to support from afar; as long as they stayed underwater, their shadows were too distorted for her to summon. If they had come up to fight with their matriarch, they would’ve only given Magica more unkillable servants to work with.

But they weren’t smart enough to save their leader. Beakley let out a grunt as she struggled onto one of her elbows, turning a hateful expression at Magica. She tried to support herself with her other arm, too, but it fell out from under her: upon closer inspection, Magica could see that it was very badly burned from her spell. She honestly would’ve expected the injury to be worse than just a mangled arm—there was a large patch of scales on her tail that were sporting scorch marks, and she seemed to be in quite a bit of debilitating pain, but she was still very much alive.

Well, for now. “This,” Magica announced, aiming her staff right at Beakley’s face and charging it with a glowing purple energy, “is for my  _ ship.” _

And then something smacked hard against her face, knocking her out of her levitation and sending her falling towards the waves. She caught herself just as her boots skimmed the water, and managed to yank herself up into the air again, but not before a scaled claw shot out of the ocean and raked her across the shin. 

“Son of a bitch!” she spat, pain lancing through her leg, but she pushed it out of her mind. “Who—oh, of  _ course! _ You just have to ruin  _ everything, _ don’t you, you sorry lout!”

Scrooge McDuck smirked and twirled his cane, balancing on a few stray pieces of free-floating wood. “Sorry I’m late, Beakley,” he said. “But I can take it from here.”

Beakley shifted. “I’m not— _ hng— _ running away,” she grunted. “I’m going to—Selene?”

She paused as a mermaid with long, cream hair popped out of the water and grabbed her. “Thanks, Scrooge,” she said with a salute as she unceremoniously pulled Beakley into the safety of the ocean. “Don’t worry about Della; she’s with us.”

Magica roared and fired a blast at her—Selene yelped and ducked under the water, dodging the blast, and Scrooge lunged forward before she could shoot another, skipping across the debris of the Dark Eclipse to swing at her with his cane.

“HA! You lost your hostage before you could even use her!” Scrooge taunted as they exchanged a few blows.

“I used her to get you here, didn’t I?” Magica sneered. “You and your  _ stupid coin!” _

With a yell, she raised Scrooge’s shadow, and sent Beakley’s and her own after him as well. Scrooge fought with that infuriating, slippery style of his, deflecting blows and ducking under blasts as he chased her down. And then just when she thought she had him in her grasp, a wave of water shot up and nearly tore her staff from her hands. She snarled and blasted down into the water, but it was impossible to tell where exactly the mermaids were. 

Then Scrooge’s cane smacked her hard across the jaw, and she let out an enraged shout, rubbing her bruising cheek with her free hand. “You are the  _ most _ obnoxious,  _ most _ infuriating,  _ most despicable STAIN _ that this world has ever  _ seen _ , McDuck!”

“Come now, de Spell, don’t sell yourself short!” Scrooge shot back, springing away from another blast.  _ “You’re _ so despicable, you managed to chase away every last member of your crew! Or are they just on vacation at the moment?”

_ “SHUT UP!” _ Magica screeched. The waters had settled down; the mermaid must be retreating. Good. It was about time she ended this for good.

She thrust out a hand, and lances of darkness shot from her fingers, skittering across the water and the debris and lunging out at Scrooge. “I DON’T NEED ANYONE ELSE!”

Scrooge rolled out of the way, but Magica cut his escape off with a crackling wall of magical lightning. He dodged to the side, but Beakley’s shadow was there, thrusting out at him with her trident. 

“I DON’T NEED THOSE  _ IDIOTS _ WHO FOLLOW ME,” Magica spat as the shadowy tendrils sprung forth and wrapped around Scrooge’s calf as he backstepped, anchoring him to the large section of hull he was standing on. 

“I DON’T NEED THAT  _ STUPID _ LITTLE SHADOW PEST, LENA,” she yelled, willing her shadow over to Scrooge and yanking his cane away as Scrooge and Beakley’s shadows held him down.

“I DON’T EVEN NEED THIS SHODDY AMULET!” She strode forward, hurtling her staff far off into the ocean. She reached Scrooge, who was fruitlessly struggling against the shadows holding him down, and looked him dead in the eye. “The ONLY thing I need,” she said, her voice low and boiling, “is  _ this.” _

She reached down, grabbed the cord around Scrooge’s neck, and yanked, the gold piece that hung on it glinting in the light as it surfaced from under his shirt.

Scrooge’s eyes sunk.  _ “No…” _

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Magica cackled. “My powers… Finally! Do you know how  _ annoying _ it’s been to rely on  _ substitutes _ all this time?! But I’m even  _ stronger _ now than I was then—I shall reign SUPREME over these seas!”

She couldn’t help but laugh more and more as she grasped the gold piece in her hand. She could feel the magic locked away inside of it; all she had to do was unlock it, and then—

_ Everything went gold. Magical power flooded through her body. She heard herself scream, but felt no pain; heard the ocean roar below her, but felt no wetness; heard the winds howling around her, but felt no draft. She was whole again, and it felt heavenly. _

When her vision returned to her, she found herself suspended in the air. Scrooge was gone, and the remains of her ship had been reduced to splinters that spiraled lazily in the water. She wondered if Scrooge had gotten away, or if he’d been dissolved in the magical surge; she supposed it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a threat to her anymore— _ nobody _ was a threat to her anymore.

“Queen of the pirates…” she mumbled to herself, eyes scanning across the rooftops of Cape Suzette. “Pathetic. Queen of the  _ world…  _ Now  _ that’s _ more like it!”

* * *

“Move! Move!” Selene shouted as she led the other mermaids towards the ocean floor. She was carrying Beakley along behind her, supporting one of Her Matriarch’s massive shoulders while Della held the other one. 

“McDuck—” Beakley coughed, voice hoarse. “If he loses—”

“We have to hope he’ll be okay,” Selene said. “Magica’s too powerful, and you can’t fight right now.”

“You misunderstand,” Beakley said. “I’m not worried about Scrooge. But if she gets her hands on the coin, then—”

They were interrupted by a brilliant golden light that pierced through the water and disrupted the currents, nearly causing Selene to drop Beakley. She cast a glance over her shoulder and had to squint against the light. “What is…?”

Next to her, Beakley just closed her eyes somberly. “Webby… I’m so sorry.”

Della gulped. “Uncle Scrooge…”

“We need to head for Mermaid Isle at once,” Beakley said suddenly, her voice commanding despite its weakness. “If she doesn’t have the map, she won’t be able to find us. It’s the only safe place we have left.”

“I… you guys go,” Della said, shrugging off Beakley’s arm. “I’m going to find Scrooge.”

Selene’s eyes softened. “Della… I know you care about him, but—”

“I’m going,” she said. 

“You won’t be able to find the Isle if you don’t come with us now,” Beakley warned. “You’ll be on your own.”

Della nodded. “I know.”

Beakley sighed. “Well. Good luck, then.”

“You too.”

Selene watched her swim off, then let out a sigh. “Come on. Let’s get going.”

* * *

“Vice Admiral Gander?”

Gladstone, who was lounging in one of the chairs on the porch of the Cape Suzette Navy base, turned at the voice. It was that Gearloose fella—one of Scrooge’s guys. He and his crewmates were leading a pair of suspiciously-dressed men towards him, bound in rope. “Yes?”

“Caught these two pirates trying to rob the Drake estate. They were unconscious when we got there; nobody seems to know who did it.”

“It was that backstabbin’ girl and her stupid pet mermaid!” shouted the stockier pirate. His accent reminded Gladstone of his uncle. “Oohhhh, the next time I see ‘er…”

“I’m afraid the only thing  _ you’ll _ be seeing any time soon is the inside of a prison cell,” said the brown-feathered soldier (Fenton? Gladstone didn’t really remember). Then he broke out into a chuckle. “Oh, I’ve  _ always _ wanted to use that one!”

“Nice, nice. Very good,” Gladstone said. “And what about—”

They were interrupted by a giant column of golden light that shot up into existence over to the west.

“…Huh,” Gladstone said. “I’m sure that’s probably fine, right?”

* * *

Behind him, Gyro and Fenton just shared a look. 

“Hey, guys?” Dewey called down from the rigging. “What’s that pillar of light?”

Penumbra frowned. “Pillar of light?”

She turned around, and then froze, her eyes transfixed on a gigantic column of golden light shooting up on the other side of Cape Suzette. 

“Okay, that does  _ not _ look good,” Louie said from next to her.

“Game over,” Penumbra mumbled.

“GUYS!”

Penumbra turned to see Lena and Violet running down the beach. Lena was carrying a young mermaid girl in her arms. Probably that ‘Webby’ the boys had mentioned earlier; the current heiress. How had they found  _ her? _

“You made it!” Huey called excitedly. “Did you see the—”

“We saw it,” Violet assured. “Are we ready to sail?”

“Just about!” Dewey called.

“Then let’s get out of here,” Lena said. She set Webby down on the deck, and turned to Penumbra, looking her up and down. “Hey.”

“Uh.” Penumbra scratched at the back of her neck. “Hey.”

“Good talk,” Lena said, before turning back to her crew. “Now let’s go! Go, go, go!”

As the sounds of ship maintenance continued behind her, Penumbra turned to look back on the pillar, which was still shining strong, and tried to quell the uneasiness in her stomach. If she hadn’t left right when she did, then, well… 

She sighed, and turned back to Lena. “How can I help?”


	16. Beware

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deals are broken, and newly reforged.

Scrooge awoke to the sound of oars cutting through waves. He also awoke to a pounding headache and intense back pain. What had even happened? He’d been fighting with Magica, and then—

“NO!” he shouted, sitting up so fast it sent a rush to his head. His hand flew to his neck, clutching at a cord that was no longer there. 

“Slow down there, old man,” said a voice, and a hand reached out to keep him from tipping forwards over the side of the rowboat. “Good to see you awake, though. The hag’s blast must have really done a number on you.”

Once Scrooge got his bearings, he turned to face the other duck in the rowboat. She was wearing practical sailing gear, had her golden hair tied up in a ponytail, and beheld him with a coy look, the wrinkles in her face betraying her age despite her undeniable beauty.

“Goldie O’Gilt,” Scrooge said, eyes narrowing. “And here I thought I’d finally been rid of you.”

“You’ll never be rid of me, Scroogie,” she said. The oars lapped at the water. “You know that.”

“So is this what you’ve been doing all this time?” Scrooge asked. “Sailing around on some row boat?”

“I’ll have you know it’s very relaxing,” Goldie said. “And much more inconspicuous when I need to rob someone than that massive pirate ship I used to command.”

“You know, just because you’re retired doesn’t mean you’re not still _wanted,_ Goldie,” Scrooge said. “I’ve half a mind to take you straight back to Duckburg and lock you up!”

Goldie scoffed. “Please! I save you from the clutches of your worst enemy—I don’t count, by the way, I’m your _best_ enemy—and you repay me by threatening to arrest me? Unbelievable!”

“You stole billions during your time as Queen of the Pirates!” Scrooge accused.

“And you won’t find a _doubloon_ of it,” Goldie said proudly. 

Scrooge rolled his eyes at her, then turned to the side, looking out across the ocean as Goldie continued to row them along. He could still see Cape Suzette a ways off; he must not have been out for very long. 

“Why did you save me?” he asked.

“I’m fed up with Magica, to be honest,” Goldie said. “All that flashy magic… how cheap! She’s practically keel hauling the title of Pirate Queen. Back in my day, we did our dirty work with nothing more than a sharp sword and a cleaned gun.” She paused, turning a smirk on him. “Besides, it would be no fun if you _died._ Who else would I be able to tease so easily?”

Scrooge rolled his eyes. “You’re the worst, O’Gilt.”

“I try,” Goldie said. Then she narrowed her eyes, staring at something behind Scrooge. “What in God’s name…?”

Scrooge turned around, looking back towards Cape Suzette, and immediately noticed a large swirling vortex of fuzzy black magic on the shore where the Dark Eclipse had been docked. “Magica… what’s she doing now?”

* * *

Magica’s grin widened as the portal ripped open in front of her. That mistake she had made ten years ago, the mistake that had gotten her stuck with that wretched, _traitorous_ brat (who had _somehow_ escaped her cage, the slippery little bitch), was about to be remedied. She could feel the magic rushing through her into the spell, seeping into the shadow realm, sending out an arcane signal flare. 

Ten years ago, Lena had told her she ‘should’ve used more magic’ if she wanted to summon a _real_ shadow monster. Well—if this wasn’t more magic, she didn’t know _what_ was.

A shifting mass of shadows squeezed through the portal, beholding Magica with a pair of bright white eyes. _Such power,_ it spoke into her mind. _What is it that you seek, mage?_

“I want to bond with a more powerful shadow monster than the one I’m currently bound to,” Magica said. “And then I want to work with you to conquer this realm.”

 _Ambitious,_ it said. _But perhaps justifiably. It had been many years since I met a mortal with your kind of ability. Overtaking this world… I’ve had a passing interest in such a venture for some time now. I am Bradford; I look forward to doing business with you._

“Magica de Spell,” said Magica. “Likewise.”

 _Firstly, we must break your pre-existing bond with your former patron,_ Bradford instructed. _This will cause you pain._

Magica laughed harshly. “Trust me,” she said, “it will be nothing but a _pleasure.”_

_Then I shall begin._

A shadowy appendage shot into Magica’s chest, and she let out a scream.

* * *

“—and so basically, in summary, I’m an extradimensional shadow monster that Magica summoned in order to gain power over dark magic,” Lena finished.

The triplets, who were gathered in front of her on the main deck, shared a concerned look. Webby and Violet were sitting next to Lena, and Penumbra was standing at the other side of the ship, arms folded, leaning against the forecastle.

“And… you didn’t think, I don’t know, that maybe you should’ve told us that before having us join your crew?” Dewey accused.

“No,” Lena said. “I really don’t. I barely knew you; I wasn’t going to spill all my secrets.”

“But what about later on?” Huey asked. “You could’ve told us before we started with the plan for conning Doofus. It would’ve been useful information.”

Lena shrugged, and looked away. “Well, by then it would’ve just been awkward.”

Next to her, Webby squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring smile before turning to the boys. “Why don’t we take a break? I know this is a lot to process, and we don’t want to overwhelm anyone.”

Louie seemed to pick up on the hint. “Right. C’mon,” he said, standing up and leading his brothers below deck. Penumbra ducked out into the crew cabins, and Webby and Violet started to leave, too, but Lena reached out and grabbed Violet by the wrist.

“Hey, Vi, can I talk with you real quick?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

They made their way into Lena’s quarters and closed the door, Lena letting out a breath. “So… Webby and I kind of… confessed to each other.”

“Mmhmm,” Violet said.

Lena frowned at her. “That’s it? ‘Mmhmm?’ I figured you would be more surprised.”

“Oh, I am,” VIolet assured. “I completely expected you to never bring it up and yearn from afar for at least a full month.”

“…Right,” Lena said. She probably shouldn’t mention that Webby was the first one to confess her feelings.

“So are you two dating now?” Violet asked. “How much teasing can I reasonably do without you killing me?”

“You’re the worst,” Lena said flatly. “And… that’s just it. I don’t really know where we stand now. Are we girlfriends? Are we dating? Everythings just been happening so fast, with this and Magica and—” Lena stopped, taking a deep breath. “It’s just… been a lot.”

“No, you’re right,” Violet said. “It has. You have every right to be a bit confused and lost right now. But let me ask you this; do you _want_ to be Webby’s girlfriend? Do you want to go on dates with her?”

“I mean… I guess? I just don’t know if that’s even something I can do. She’s a _mermaid princess_ or whatever, and I’m… well, you know. I’m still bound to Magica. That’s… not an ideal starting point for a long-term relationship.”

“Well, I don’t really know what to tell you,” Violet said. “At the end of the day, it’s up to you and Webby what you do with the situation you have. It’s not the end of the world if things don’t work out.”

“That’s a good point,” Lena admitted. “I’m just… I don’t know if I haaaa _aaaaahhhhh—”_ Lena’s voice deteriorated, and black mist started flowing out of her beak. Her eyes widened, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, but the shadows still seeped out of her.

Violet’s eyes widened. “Lena? Are you losing your form? Why?”

 _“Magicaahhhh broke hhherrrrrrrrr bonnnnd,”_ Lena hissed, straining against shadow-clogged vocal cords. The mist was flowing straight out from her skin now, her physical body beginning to slump and melt as the shadows that animated it left. 

Violet immediately rushed out of the cabin; good, she remembered. There had always been a chance of Magica breaking her bond with Lena after they deserted, so Lena and Violet had formed a plan. Lena just hoped it worked. And that Violet forgave her.

By the time Violet got back, a piece of paper in hand, Lena had almost entirely left her body. Violet did a double take when she looked up at Lena’s true form, a clump of darkness that was holding onto her body by a tenuous thread of shadow. “That’s… you’re still in there, right?”

 _Still me, Vi,_ Lena spoke into her mind. She could feel her magic returning—she could feel the shadows in the room pulling on her, tugging like she was a fish caught on a line, threatening to yank her back across the Veil. _Hurry. Please._

Violet nodded. “Shadow spirit,” she said, speaking shakily from the parchment clutched tightly in her hands. “I am Violet Sabrewing, and I come bearing an offer of covenant. Give to me your magic, and I shall in turn give to you the flesh and anchor you need to exist in this realm. Magic for body, power for presence, as is the way of the ancients. Do you accept?”

 _I accept,_ Lena said.

Lena thrust a shadowy arm into Violet’s chest, quickly navigated to her core, and grabbed it tight. Violet gasped, looked up and Lena with frightened, determined eyes, and then screamed for all she was worth.

* * *

After Lena’s talk, Webby found the triplets down by the galley, situated around the table. Dewey was laying on top of it, fidgeting with a deck of cards, Huey was quietly reading against the wall, and Louie was somehow slouching on one of the stools, a cup in hand.

“Guys, do you have a moment to talk?” she asked.

“Of course,” Huey said with a reassuring smile, slipping a bookmark into his book. “What about?”

“It’s… about Lena,” Webby said.

Dewey let out a huff. “I know, right? How could she keep all this from us! I thought we were her _crew!”_

Louie took a long sip from his cup. “If _you_ were an interdimensional shadow demon, would _you_ want to tell everyone?”

“What? No, I don’t care about any of that,” Webby said. “I need relationship advice!”

All three of them froze, heads snapping to her.

“…With Lena?” Dewey asked slowly, after a moment.

“Wait, you have a crush on Lena?!” Huey asked, leaning over the table, eyes wide.

“I—” Webby blushed. “U-uh, yeah, I guess. Crush feels… dumb, though. I just, the more I get to know her the more I realize how—”

“Nope!” Louie interrupted. “Stopping you _right_ there, thanks.”

“But she’s just so pretty and she—”

“Do you want advice or not, fish girl?” Louie said.

“Louie, don’t be mean,” Huey chided. 

Louie gave him a flat look. “Do _you_ want to listen to her gush about how cute and smart and brave Lena is for ten minutes?”

Huey didn’t seem to have anything to say to that. Webby pouted.

“Ignore them,” Dewey said, waving his brothers off. “What is it you need help with? Smooth pickup lines?”

“No, actually I—”

“Because I am the _best_ at pickup lines,” Dewey continued, cutting her off. 

Webby glanced over at Huey and Louie, who both just shook their heads. _He’s not,_ Louie mouthed. 

“Here here, check this one out—hey Lena, it’s a good thing you’re a shadow, cause I was hoping you’d follow me home tonight!”

“Dewey,” Webby said, unimpressed.

“Okay, okay, that one wasn’t my best,” Dewey admitted. “What about, um… Hey Lena, are you Dewey? ‘Cause I think you’re really handsome and cool!”

“I don’t need pickup lines, Dewey,” Webby said. 

“What about ‘You’re out of this world’? You know, since she’s from another dimension?”

“She already knows how I feel!” Webby snapped. “And… I know she feels the same way back.”

“Oh, shit,” Louie said.

Huey’s eyes blew up. “What? When did this happen?”

“After Magica trapped us in a cage together and Lena had a breakdown,” Webby said. 

“Huh,” Dewey said. 

“Wait.” Huey blinked. “Then what do you need help with?”

“What do I do now?” Webby asked.

The boys looked at each other, faces blank. “Ummm…” Louie said. 

“I’m new to this,” Webby said. “Like do I kiss her?”

“No, it’s… it’s too early to kiss her, right?” Huey said. “Don’t they say not to do that until, like, the third date?”

“I don’t think we’re really working with a traditional date system here, Huey,” Louie said.

Dewey scratched at his chin. “I mean… if you like her, and she likes you, a kiss wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“I guess?” Huey said. “You just want to make sure you don’t move too fast. What’s happened so far?”

“Well.” Webby blushed a little, her tail fins slapping idly against the floor with little rhythmic taps. “I kind of sung to her while she was crying in my arms, and then she kind of dumped her insecurities onto me and I reassured her, and then I held her while she cried some more, and then I told her I had more-than-friends feelings for her, and she said she felt the same way, and then she carried me through the forest with her big, strong shadow arms.”

“So…” Dewey blinked. “Okay, in my opinion, singing to someone while they sob uncontrollably in your arms comes, like, _after_ kissing, so I think you’re good to kiss.”

“Great!” Webby said. “So how do I do that?”

Huey looked at her. “Webby, none of us have kissed anybody before. Or been on any dates before. Or had any relationship experience at all. You know that, right?”

Webby stared at them, face flat. “Oh. Wait, then why am I asking you?”

“I have been wondering that this whole time,” Dewey said.

“Hey now, that doesn’t mean we don’t have any advice,” Louie countered, leaning back on his stool and throwing his arms behind his head. “You’ve gotta balance the relationship out before you go too much further.”

Webby raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it: Lena poured her heart out to you back in the forest, but how much have you really told her about yourself? If you want the relationship to move forward, you need to open up to her a bit more.”

“That’s…” Huey frowned. “That’s surprisingly insightful, Louie.”

“Yeah, I’m basically a god at everything I do,” Louie said.

“So how do I do that without it being awkward?” Webby asked.

Louie shrugged. “No clue. Wishing you luck though!”

Webby groaned, flopping dramatically across the table, her tail flicking about behind her. “Ughh, why is this so hard? I just want to have a daring, forbidden romance with a cute extradimensional pirate girl. Is that too much to ask?”

“Absolutely not!” Dewey said. “Don’t worry—with us by your side, this is gonna be a piece of cake!”

Huey blinked. “Wait, what are we gonna do?”

“Help!” Dewey said. “You know, wingman!”

“For two people who already confessed to each other?” Huey asked.

“Sounds a lot easier than the alternative,” Louie said. “Sure, whatever. I’m in.”

Webby beamed. “Thanks, guys!”

“But we don’t even have a plan! How are we gonna—”

Huey was cut off by a violent, piercing, blood-curdling scream. Webby didn’t hesitate, her romance troubles completely forgotten as she shot up the stairs like a bullet, leaping and twisting and propelling herself across the deck, the scream growing closer and closer. She thought it was Violet, but it was hard to tell; it was long, and hoarse, and only briefly broke for a gasp of air before starting up again. Webby saw Penumbra dashing across the deck a step ahead of her, and heard the boys tripping over themselves as they all tried to climb the stairs at once. 

Penumbra drew her sword and stood to the side at the ready as Webby busted open the door to the captain’s quarters with her tail, but as soon as she got inside, she stopped dead. 

Violet was on her knees in the middle of the room, howling like mad as a swirling vortex of shadows consumed her. Webby was vaguely aware of the triplets coming up behind her as she watched, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the scene. Lena’s body, which was laying in a limp, crumpled heap on the ground, slowly rose up as the shadows filled it, eyes shining a brilliant, deep black. Violet’s eyes mirrored Lena’s, inky, shiny, and blotted out by the shadows flowing inside of her. 

Eventually, as the last of the shadows flowed into Lena and Violet, the screaming died down, and Violet shakily stood up, clutching at her head. Lena, who was on her feet as well, rushed over and took her into a hug. “Thank you.”

“…Just don’t ask me to ever do that again,” Violet mumbled, clutching tightly at her sister.

Webby looked over her shoulder, at an array of horrified faces. She tentatively pushed herself forward, inching into the room. “Lena? Violet? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Lena said, pulling out of the hug and turning a smile on Webby. “Everything’s okay now.”

“Then what the _hell_ was that?” Louie asked.

“Magica broke her bond with me,” Lena said. “She must be contacting a stronger shadow monster now that she has her true magic back. So, I needed to bond with someone before I completely lost my form.”

Dewey gasped. “Wait, Violet, do you have shadow powers now?”

“Yes,” Violet said drearily. “But I also have a monster of a headache. I think I’m going to lie down.” She pushed her way out of the cabin onto the main deck, and then froze. “Who’s that?”

All heads turned to look at a woman—no, a _mermaid—_ who was peeking over the starboard railing, digging into the woods with her claws.

“…Della?” Penumbra asked.

“Penny?” Then Della squinted, looking past her at the triplets. _“Boys?!”_

“MOM?!” Huey, Dewey, and Louie shouted in unison.

“Fucking hell,” Lena muttered, rubbing at her temples. “Vi had the right idea. I’m going to bed.” 


	17. Someone Foolish Like Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Della reunites with her kids. There are more kids than she remembers.

Della cut through the waves, leaving Selene and the mermaids behind. She understood that she would be on her own without them, but she couldn’t just abandon Scrooge. She knew he wasn’t dead—Scrooge didn’t  _ do _ ‘dead’—but there was a good chance he was hurt, or captured, or lost, or stranded, or something like that. So Della had to make sure he was okay.

It didn’t take much swimming before she saw a ship cutting away from Cape Suzette. It was much smaller than Magica’s old ship, but she supposed it wasn’t impossible that Magica had sucked up her ego and stolen the first ship she could get her hands on, even if it was a small one. It seemed unlikely, though, so she decided to check it out. Maybe they could help her.

She strained to catch up with the ship; it was fast, and her missing fin wasn’t helping her make good time, to put it lightly. She  _ was _ gaining on it, though, however slowly, so she pressed on.

As she got closer, she began to recognize the build of the ship. It was a Naval Cutter, and judging by the craftsmanship, it was one her brother had made. She’d recognize his ships anywhere—it was how she knew which ones would fall apart, and which ones she could count on to get her through anything.

Hopefully it was still under Navy control. Maybe they were trying to get to Duckburg in order to gather more forces to combat Magica. Besides, she doubted Magica would steal a Navy ship;  _ that _ would clash too hard with her ego for sure. Still, she had to be cautious.

Eventually, she reached the side of the ship, digging her claws into the wood and hauling herself up the side. (If this  _ was _ the Navy, she was sure they would forgive the scuffs.) She pulled her head over the railing, and immediately came eye-to-eye with a purple girl in practical sailing gear and a bandanna.

The girl froze, looking straight at her. “Who’s that?”

Della didn’t quite know how to respond, and then before she knew it, six more heads were poking out from the captain’s quarters.

“Della?” someone said.

Della’s eyes widened as she took in the only adult figure on the ship. “Penny?” Then her gaze drifted down, and she nearly couldn’t believe her eyes.  _ “Boys?!” _

“MOM?!”

The pink-haired duck mumbled something and walked back into the quarters, the purple girl joining her, but Della hardly noticed them. She flipped herself over the railing and flopped as quickly as she could over to her children.

“Woah! You’re a mermaid now?” Dewey asked. “Since when did that—oof!”

Della cut him off with a hug, her arms wrapping around all three of them and pulling them in tight. “I was so worried about you,” she whispered.

They didn’t say anything, but they did hug her back; she decided to just sit there for a while, feeling them being  _ there _ in her arms.

But eventually, she had to pull away. She reared back and looked up at Penumbra, who was leaning awkwardly against the ship’s railing a few feet off. “Penny, did you find them?”

“…Sort of?” she said. “Not really. I had no idea you guys were related. I ran into them in the woods when I was running away from Magica.” She coughed. “It’s… nice to see you again. I thought you were dead. Why are you a mermaid?”

“A pelagic key!” said a voice from the side. “You guys said your Mom had one, right? Well, that’s what they do! Turn you into a mermaid!”

It was then that Della noticed the young mermaid girl watching them from a few feet away, a warm smile on her beak. Della’s mouth dropped open; what was a  _ mermaid _ doing here? And one so young? Oh, don’t tell her it was— 

“Oh, yeah, this is Webby!” Huey introduced. “She joined our crew a while ago. Long story.”

“Oh! I’m sorry! Were you guys having a moment?” Webby asked nervously. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…” 

Della spluttered for a moment before finding her voice. “Why is the Matriarch’s  _ missing granddaughter _ sailing with you guys? What? I’m—what?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Louie said.

Della gave him a look. “I’ve got time.”

The boys glanced at each other, came to some sort of silent agreement, and then Dewey started talking. “So we were really bored, right? Because you were off working and Uncle Donald’s boring. So we decided to steal one of his boats and become pirates!”

“You’re grounded,” Della said immediately.

Louie shrugged. “That makes sense.”

Just then, the door to the captain’s quarters flung open, and the pink-haired girl stuck her head out. “You can’t ground them as long as they’re my crew and they’re on my ship,” she said, pointing a finger at Della. “Only  _ I  _ can ground them. And they’ve done nothing wrong; running away from home to start your own pirate crew is dope as hell.”

“I think that’s the nicest thing she’s ever said about us,” Dewey remarked.

Della bristled. “Wh—being a pirate is not ‘dope,’ it’s criminal! You should try to be a better role model for—” 

The door slammed shut. 

“Hey!” Della yelled, trying to stand up and failing.

“So that was Lena,” Huey said. “She’s our captain. She and Violet were trying to steal Donald’s boat at the same time we were, so we decided to team up!”

Della’s eye twitched. “You just  _ joined up _ with some random pirates? That’s—wait.” She paused, turning to Penumbra. “Lena and Violet… Penny, weren’t those the names of the kids who ran away from Magica’s crew right before you captured me?”

Penumbra nodded. “Yeah.”

“And they just—and you guys—and Webby, too?” Della let out a long breath. “This is too much.”

“I was running away from Granny at the time,” Webby said. “Because she’d grounded me. Lena’s ship was the first one I saw, so I just went there.”

“We were in the area because we were following this map Lena stole from Magica that led to Mermaid Isle,” Huey said.

“And then a bunch of totally normal and reasonable events led to her joining our crew,” Louie added.

Della perked up. “Wait. Do you still have that map? The one to Mermaid Isle?”

“Dunno,” Louie said.

Dewey cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a shout. “Hey, Lena!”

The door opened again, and Lena poked her head out, looking mildly annoyed. “This better be important, Dewbert, or you’re grounded.”

“Mom wants to know if you still have the map to Mermaid Isle,” Dewey said

“Yeah,” Lena said. She turned to Della. “Why?”

“Beakley and the other mermaids were heading back there after Beakley’s fight with Magica, so—”

“Granny fought Magica?!” Webby exclaimed. “Is… she okay?”

“She was a little banged up, but she’ll be fine,” Della said. “Scrooge is the one I’m more worried about, considering… well. You saw the light, right?”

They nodded, and the mood dropped. 

“But anyway,” Della went on, “we should head for Mermaid Isle. Magica won’t be able to find us there. We’ll be safe”

Lena let out a hum. “That’s a good point. That might give us time to come up with some sort of plan, as well, especially if we can get them on our side.”

Della frowned. “Plan? I was thinking more, like, go there and stay there and try to  _ avoid _ Magica.”

Dewey bristled. “You mean run away?”

“For the record,” Huey said, “I’m not opposed to that.”

“She’ll find us eventually,” Lena said, and the matter-of-factness of it sent a chill down Della’s spine. “But if Violet and I can neutralize her shadow magic with our own, an army of mermaids might be able to overwhelm her without worrying about giving her more minions to work with.”

Della raised an eyebrow. “You have shadow magic?” 

“Ask your sons. I already explained this once today.”

Della looked inquisitively at the triplets. 

“Extra dimensional shadow monster that Magica summoned into this realm, then Lena betrayed her, so Magica broke their pact,” Louie said in a rush. “She’s bonded to Violet now.”

“Hello, I’m Violet,” said the purple girl suddenly, poking her head out past where Lena was leaning in her cabin’s door frame. “Nice to meet you. I’m going to continue lying down now, because I’m nauseous from absorbing all of Lena’s magic and Lena’s bed is comfortable.”

“Uh—hi,” Della said.

Violet gave her a nod, and disappeared again.

“Alright, let’s give them some space to catch up, Pink,” Lena said. “We’ll set a course for Mermaid Isle in the morning.”

“Right!” Webby said, launching herself with a thrust from her tail and soaring into the captain’s quarters. Lena followed her, shutting the door behind them. When Della looked back, she saw the tip of Penumbra’s head disappearing below deck, leaving her alone with her kids.

“So, uh. Mom.” Louie coughed. “How’s it been going?”

“Oh, you know,” Della said with a laugh. “Magica… cut off my leg and captured me and I had to escape.”

“…Oh,” Louie said. “Sorry?”

“It’s okay! It all worked out okay, right? I’m safe now, and I’m with you.” She smiled at them. “What about you guys?”

“We, uh, scammed some rich kid out of a lot of money? I think that’s probably the most interesting thing,” Dewey said.

Della narrowed her eyes. “How much money?”

“Ten thousand gold pieces,” Louie said with no small amount of pride. “It was my plan, by the way.”

“Wh—oh my god.” Della blinked. She hadn’t expected her kids to be…  _ good _ at being pirates. No offense to them, of course, but—ten thousand gold pieces? She would have to ask how they managed to pull that off sometime later, but right now, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to look for Scrooge?” Huey asked. “We could help if you want.”

Della took a deep breath. Looking for Scrooge went hand in hand with looking for Magica, more or less; she couldn’t drag her kids into that. “Scrooge can handle himself,” she said. “Besides, I’ve got a few other troublemakers to look after right now. We should focus on getting to Mermaid Isle.”

Dewey grinned up at her. “It’s good to have you here, Mom.”

“Especially since you can’t ground us right now,” Louie said.

“Hey, if we help defeat Magica, does that make up for stealing the boat and becoming pirates?” Huey asked.

Della smiled at him. “No.”

* * *

As the boys caught up with their Mom outside, Lena rested against one end of her cabin, Webby curled up beside her, as Violet lay groaning on the bed.

Lena gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry again. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Violet grumbled. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Alright; fuck you, then,” Lena said. “I hope you never recover.”

“Thank you, Lena. That’s much better.”

The room fell back into silence for a moment. Webby swiftly rectified that. “So you’re  _ sure  _ you don’t want to try out your cool magic powers?” she asked. “Because if  _ I _ had cool new magic powers, I would  _ definitely _ want to see them.”

Violet turned her head to look at Webby. “How badly do you want to see my magic?”

“Like really really really really badly,” Webby confessed.

Violet let out a sigh. “Okay, but only because Lena likes you.”

Webby turned to Lena, and she felt herself go red. “I—you—shut up.”

Webby smiled and shifted a bit so that her head was resting on Lena’s shoulder. “I like you too.”

Long story short, that didn’t help Lena with her blush.

Then, suddenly, Webby’s shadow began moving. It shifted, warbling upwards unsteadily before finally taking shape, sitting obediently on the floor of the cabin. Lena was impressed; judging by her memory of how Magica had learned how to use shadow magic, she hadn’t expected Violet to pick it up this quickly. She supposed it made sense, though—Violet had watched Magica do it a million times, and Violet was also ridiculously smart. For all Lena knew, she’d read a book about it or something.

Violet let out a labored breath as Webby’s shadow solidified. “There.”

“Oooooo,” Webby said, reaching out and poking it with a claw. In the process, she took her head off of Lena’s shoulder, and compensated by wrapping her other arm around Lena’s back. “That’s so cool! Hello shadow!”

“Um—neat,” Lena said, trying not to overthink the fact that Webby’s arm was around her back. She was getting awfully touchy-feely with Lena lately. Which wasn’t a bad thing! It wasn’t a bad thing at all, it was a good thing, a very, very good thing; Lena just didn’t really know how to reciprocate. 

Violet, surely, would tell her to just emulate whatever instinct overtook her nocturnally to viciously entrap Webby in her arms (because apparently Webby had told the boys about that at some point and then they had told Violet and she would NOT stop bringing it up), but Lena was far too awkward to tap into that part of herself while fully conscious.

So she kind of shuffled a bit closer to Webby, then got scared, and proceeded to sit rigidly still against the wall, her side brushing up against Webby’s.

“Can you make it do stuff?” Webby asked, apparently oblivious to Lena’s internal strife. 

Violet narrowed her eyes, and the shadow reached out and flicked Lena’s hair. “Yes.”

“Hey,” Lena said, reaching up to pat her hair back into place. 

Webby giggled; it was extremely adorable, and Lena was once again acutely aware of how close they were sitting. As she moved her arm back down into place, she was struck by a sudden, radical idea, and instead of returning it to her side, she moved her arm around Webby’s back in turn, even squeezing her a bit closer.

Mission: successful.

“Can it do my tricks?” Webby asked. “Try to make it do a backflip!”

“It’s a shadow,” Violet said, as she willed Webby’s shadow to jump up in the air and hover a few feet off the ground, backflipping rapidly. “It’s not really beholden to physical laws.”

“Woah…” Webby said, looking up in awe. “That’s so cool, Violet!”

“I guess it is pretty neat,” Violet said, relaxing her control and letting Webby’s shadow splash back down to where it belonged. “Magica was always woefully uncreative with how she utilized her powers.”

“Her loss,” Lena said.

Violet hummed in agreement, and then closed her eyes, letting out a breath. “No more demonstrations for a while, though. This headache is seriously going to kill me.”

“Okay,” Webby acknowledged. “Thanks, though!”

As the conversation died down, Webby’s tail idly wove itself through Lena’s legs. Her cool scales pressed firmly but gently against Lena’s pants, her fins tickling at Lena’s ankles, and Lena once again froze up. 

This—this was ridiculous. How the hell was she expecting to actually forge any kind of meaningful relationship with Webby if she was getting so nervous at the slightest cuddling? She was stronger than that; she would  _ not _ crumble here. She was a  _ fighter. _ She needed to fight  _ back.  _

With newfound determination, Lena moved her hand up to the side of Webby’s head, gently pushing it onto her shoulder. Webby let out a soft little hum at the direction, and Lena smiled (in VICTORY) as she laid her own head down on top of Webby’s, her little starfish hair clip poking Lena lightly in the cheek. 

“You’re soft,” Webby whispered.

“Yeah?” Lena whispered back. “Well, you’re sharp.”

“Because my species is superior.”

“I’m not even a real duck,” Lena said. Their hands quickly found each other, fingers interlacing. “Don’t worry. I like sharp.”

“Why’d you take the form of a lame land dweller anyway, and not some cool mermaid?” Webby asked.

“Dunno,” Lena murmured, leaning further into Webby. “I was, like, six.”

“So I was thinking,” Violet said suddenly, and Webby and Lena both jumped, untangling themselves with gymnastic agility and turning towards Violet. She didn’t seem to be watching them, fortunately, as she had her eyes closed and was looking up towards the ceiling. But you never really know with Violet.

“Uh—yeah?” Lena said.

“We bought those extra hammocks back in Cape Suzette, but with both Penumbra and Della here now, we’re in the same situation we were before, of being down one bed.”

Lena and Webby looked at each other. 

“So what’s the problem?” Lena asked.

“Well, I feel bad that you and Webby have been forced to share a bed all this time. I’ve got this great idea for how we can swing it so that you guys don’t have to anymore.”

Lena narrowed her eyes at her, but Violet continued to lie there unassumingly, face perfectly neutral.

“Oh, no, you don’t—” Webby cleared her throat. “That’s okay, it’s, you know, not so bad.”

“Are you sure?” Violet said, eyes flicking over to Webby. “I just want to accomodate you however we can.” 

Lena sighed. “Violet.”

Violet ignored her.

“It’s—well—” Webby scrambled to find her words. “I just don’t want to trouble you and I really don’t mind, and, well, um—”

“Webby, could it be that you  _ want  _ to share the bed with Lena?” Violet asked, her voice full of feigned disbelief.

“Oh my god,” Lena said.

Webby blushed. “U-um…”

“Even with her tendency to unconsciously ensnare you, forcing you to cuddle her for hours at a time?” Violet went on. “Is that really what you want?”

Webby held her face in her hands, whining softly. “Yes…”

Lena crossed her arms.  _ “Violet.” _

“Okay, okay,” Violet said, getting up off the bed and making her way out of the cabin. “You two are adorable.”

The door shut behind her, and Lena let out a sigh. “I’m sorry about her. She just likes teasing.”

“Oh, it’s—fine,” Webby said, still bright red. “The important thing is that she’s not hogging the bed anymore. So, jokes on her, because now we can cuddle all we want, and she can’t even do anything about it!”

“Hell yeah,” Lena said as Webby dragged her over by the hand. “Spite cuddling.”

“Spite cuddling!” Webby echoed.

They flopped onto the covers, snuggling close to each other. Lena closed her eyes and relaxed, feeling Webby’s breath on her neck. It was nice.

“It’s kind of scary, you know,” Webby began. “How much I care about you.”

Lena breathed. “…Yeah,” she said, after a beat. “Yeah, it is. But I’m willing to be brave.”

“So am I.” Webby pulled her in tight. “We’ll figure this out. All of it.”

“I hope so,” Lena said, letting out a sigh. “One thing at a time.”

She wasn’t surprised that sleep took her soon after; it’d been a long day. But this, she thought as she drifted away from the waking world, was the perfect way to end it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is like 3,000 words that furthers the plot in almost no meaningful way but also, sometimes you just gotta write some fluff now and then.


	18. Under the Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew arrives at Mermaid Isle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited for this arc, y'all...

The water swished through Selene’s fins as they swam back to Mermaid Isle. It didn’t take long before Beakley insisted she could swim on her own, shrugging off Selene’s support and taking the lead. Selene, wisely, didn’t argue, content to swim a few feet behind her Matriarch as the Isle slowly took shape in the distance.

The platoon of mermaids dispersed as they reached the outskirt villages, soldiers rushing back to their homes and families. Selene, however, stayed right behind Beakley all the way up to the palace, where Storkules was standing guard as usual. If Beakley minded her presence, she didn’t say anything about it.

“Ah, dearest sister!” Storkules greeted, splaying his arms wide. “And, ho, my very Matriarch herself! I must report that my squadron’s foray to Duckburg turned up little in the way of locating our lost Heiress, but I did reunite most gloriously with the great Friend Donald! Oh, how happy he was to see me, and I him!” Storkules let out a dreamy sigh. “But enough about my own quests; did your team have much luck in Cape Suzette?”

“Yeah,” Selene said sullenly. “The bad kind.”

“…I see,” Storkules said.

“Thank you for your continued diligence, Storkules,” Beakley said stoically. “I’m afraid I must retreat to my throne room for now, but I’ll have someone fill you and the rest of your guard in on new developments posthaste.”

“Understood, my Matriarch,” Storkules said, stepping aside.

They slipped past Storkules and made their way into the palace, where Duckworth promptly received them. “Welcome back, my Matriarch,” he said, his tone, as always, professionally unemotional. Then, he turned to Selene. “And… you.”

Selene gave him an unimpressed look. “Mmhmm.” 

Duckworth led the way through the winding coral halls up to the throne room, opening the doors and ushering them through. Beakley said nothing, not even her typical ‘Thank you, Duckworth’—she just made her way to the throne, slumped down, and dropped her head into her hands.

“So…” Selene cleared her throat. “What’s the plan now?”

“The plan?” Beakley raised her head to meet eyes with Selene, the look on her face sharp enough to split a sword’s edge. “There is no more  _ plan _ . Magica has regained her powers.”

“But Webby—”

_ “Don’t,” _ Beakley intoned, “say her name. I haven’t forgotten your part in all of this, Selene. I’ve half a mind to have you banished.”

Selene’s brow furrowed. “So, what? You’re just going to give up? We can still fight! We’ll find a way.”

Beakley stretched up to her full height, raising her trident regally in front of her. “I’m not _giving up;_ I’m _surviving._ A tactic through which I have thus far managed to narrowly avoid the _extinction of our species._ You can’t even BEGIN to understand—” She stopped abruptly and took a deep breath, settling back down into her chair. “I’ve heard enough. Duckworth, see her out.”

Duckworth swam forward to prod Selene out of the chamber. She cooperated, passing back out into the hallway, but spared one last glance over her shoulder. In that moment, just before Duckworth closed the throne room doors behind them, Selene caught a glimpse of a sight she never would have thought possible: The Matriarch of the Mermaids, curled up into a diminutive ball on her throne, silently crying into her claws.

* * *

“We shouldn’t go any farther than this just yet,” Webby said as the ship slowly crept towards Mermaid Isle. 

Lena nodded, staring out over the prow next to her, and called backwards to the boys to furl the sails. Then, Webby fished through her bag and pulled out her pelagic key, handing it to Lena. 

“And you’re sure about this?” Lena asked.

“Of course,” Webby said. “Are  _ you _ sure about this? You don’t think it’ll interact weirdly with your shadow magic or anything?”

“Should be fine,” Lena said. Earlier, they had all met together to decide who’d be going down to Mermaid Isle. Webby, obviously, was going, and Della too, since they didn’t know how to un-mermaidify her (Webby had said she knew it was possible, but she’d have to ask her Granny.) That left them with Webby’s key, and one more person to decide on. Della briefly mentioned Penny, and immediately and ruthlessly got shot down by her own children, who argued that it had to be Lena ‘since she was the captain,’ followed by Dewey winking extremely un-subtly at Webby. 

Lena didn’t know if she was more grateful, annoyed, amused, or frightened that she and Webby were apparently being wing-manned by four people at once. At least it meant they could enjoy a romantic visit to Webby’s grandmother, who hated pirates and specifically hated Lena’s old crew and who they needed to convince to help them despite the fact that Magica was stronger than ever and that Beakley had no real reason to trust Lena to be near Webby, much less to actually suppress Magica’s shadow magic, which to be fair was not something they one-hundred-percent knew she and Violet would be able to do.

What a great first date. 

“So what am I supposed to do with it?” Lena asked, looking down at the seashell necklace.

“First you smash it,” Webby instructed.

Lena slammed her fist down on her palm, cracking open the shell and revealing a shimmering, iridescent pearl inside. “Neat.”

“And then you eat it.”

Lena looked up. “Sorry?”

“And then you eat it,” Webby repeated.

Lena blinked. “Like, just. Just go for it?”

Webby nodded. “I mean, you probably shouldn’t chew it? But yeah. Swallow it.”

“Right.” Lena stared down at the pearl for a few seconds before looking back up. “You sure there’s not some spell or something we could do instead?”

“Oh my god,” Webby said. She reached out, grabbed the pearl, wound back her arm, and chucked it into Lena’s throat.

“Webby!” Lena shouted, except it came out a lot more like “Hhrrzzzkkk!” as she hacked and coughed before finally swallowing down the pearl. She felt a familiar tingle of magic throughout her body, and then, after a brief and slightly strange transformation, Lena fell flat on her rear, her legs replaced with a single strong tail of glossy black scales. She awkwardly shimmied out of her boots and pants, nearly tearing the fabric with her new claws, but eventually got herself free. 

“Wow!” Webby said excitedly as Lena flopped pathetically around the deck. “You look so pretty!”

Lena stopped flopping. “Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, not that you didn’t look pretty before or anything,” Webby quickly said. “But those scales are  _ beautiful _ —I’ve never seen a mermaid with scales that dark before.”

Lena raised her claws in front of her face, twisting them around. Her scales were a deep black, but lustrous, sucking up all the light around them and then sleekly reflecting it back out with a glossy shine. She guessed they were kind of sick, now that she really looked at them.

“Looking good, Lena!” Della called from the main deck. “You kiddos ready to go?”

“Don’t call me kiddo,” Lena said. “You’re not my mom.”

“You don’t  _ have _ a mom,” Della said, “so as the only mom around, I’m yours by default.”

“She’s got a point,” Dewey called down from the rigging.

“No, she doesn’t,” Lena called back. Webby giggled next to her, and Lena shot her a glare. “She  _ doesn’t.” _

“Didn’t say anything,” Webby said.

Lena let out a belabored sigh. “Let’s just get going.”

Webby grabbed her bag, Lena managed to get a belt around her tail tight enough to hold her sword, and then the three of them dove into the water. The switch from breathing air to breathing water was significantly less jarring than the switch from breathing air to breathing shadows whenever she shadow-walked, so Lena was able to take the whole transition in relative stride.

They began swimming off towards the Isle, but didn’t get very far before a small group of mermaids approached them, tridents in hand. Lena moved to draw her cutlass, but Webby put an arm out to stop her.

“It’s okay,” Webby said. “They won’t attack us.”

Sure enough, as soon as the mermaids caught sight of Webby, they stopped in their tracks, bowing low.

“M-My Heiress,” said one. He was clearly trying his best to sound appropriately reverent, but considering the lost Heiress had spontaneously shown up out of the blue, he understandably seemed to be at a loss for words. “We—um…”

“We are grateful for your safe return,” another one cut in, picking up for her coworker’s slack. “But where have you been? And who are these others you bring with you?”

“I appreciate your concern,” Webby said, “but I have to meet with my grandmother immediately. I don’t have time to talk.”

“R-right, of course,” said the first mermaid. “Allow us to escort you.”

They turned and took off, and Webby swam after them, Lena and Della taking up the rear. Lena crept forwards, though, until she was swimming along next to Webby. “Escort you?” she asked softly.

Webby rolled her eyes. “I know. Better not to put a fuss up about it, though; they insist. I basically always have someone watching me.” She sighed. “Ugh, and  _ now _ Granny’s probably gonna assign a whole  _ platoon _ to me to make sure I don’t run away again.”

“What about your privacy?” Lena asked.

Webby gave a dry laugh. “I had more privacy on our tiny little ship than I ever had in the entire Isle. Why did you think I ran away? Just because I got grounded one time?”

Lena turned away. “…Maybe a little bit.” 

Webby giggled, and started to say something else before she was cut off by someone shouting her name. A second later, in a rush of blue, another, older mermaid barreled past their ‘escorts’ and tackled Webby in a hug. Webby was ready, though, and rolled with the momentum, sending the both of them spinning through the water until Webby was on top, looking down at her attacker.

“Selene?!” Webby exclaimed, breaking into a smile.

“I totally thought you were dead!” Selene said, looking to be at the verge of tears. “Ohh, I’m so glad you’re okay! Also, hey again, Della! Nice to see you managed to find us after all.”

“Hi Selene,” Della said warmly. “Nice to see you again too.”

“Oh, Selene, I have so much to tell you!” Webby said. “I got captured, I escaped, I made some new friends, I joined a pirate crew, I let myself get captured again to rob someone and then escaped, and then I got captured by  _ Magica _ and then I escaped using  _ Magic! _ ”

Selene had an overwhelmed but still clearly happy expression on her face as Webby dumped it all on her. “Wow, sounds like you got exactly what you were looking for, huh? You’ll have to tell me all the details later, assuming your Granny doesn’t up her anti-Selene security.”

“I’m not letting her keep me cooped up like that again,” Webby said resolutely. “If I learned anything out there, its that there’s so much more for me than wandering in the gardens and playing the lyre in my room.”

Selene sighed. “Your Granny isn’t going to like that.”

“I… I know,” Webby said. “But I think I can make her understand! We have a plan to beat Magica, too, we just need to get her on board…”

“Good luck,” Selene said. “She’s… not exactly in a great place right now. But maybe seeing you again will perk her back up.”

“I doubt it,” mumbled one of the other mermaids ahead of them, only for her to get swiftly prodded by the butt of someone else’s trident.

“And who’s this?” Selene asked, looking at Lena. “Nice scales. Are you Webby’s new goth girlfriend or something?”

Selene laughed. Webby and Lena did not, both going red and decidedly not looking at each other or Selene.

Selene stopped laughing. “Wait. For real? Oh my god.”

“Th-this is Lena,” Webby said awkwardly, attempting to reassert herself. She straightened her posture, no doubt doing her best to conjure up stiff etiquette lessons from her upbringing. “She’s the captain of my new pirate crew. She’s gonna help me talk to Granny.”

“Hi,” Lena said, trying to school her expression.

Selene let out a whistle. “Pirate captain, huh? Are you, like, actively trying to rebel as much as possible, or is she just your type?”

“Selene, I can beat you in a fight,” Webby warned. 

“Alright, alright,” Selene said, exchanging a look with Della, who just shrugged. “But seriously, I’m happy for you two. This is a story I’ve  _ gotta _ hear.”

“Maybe later,” Webby mumbled. “Also,  _ please _ don’t tell Granny.”

“My lips are sealed,” she said. “So, Lena. Has Webby sung you a love song yet? I bet she has, right?”

Webby let out a growl and wrapped one claw around the trident on her back.

“Aaaand that’s my cue to go!” Selene said cheerfully. “Can’t get too close to the palace anyway. If Beakley finds out I’m talking to you, I’m done for.” She paused. “Hey, do you guys mind if I steal Della away for a bit? We saw each other back at Cape Suzette, but we didn’t exactly have a chance to catch up.”

“Um—” Lena turned to Webby, who turned to Della.

“To be honest, I think keeping the initial meeting small might help,” Della said, answering the unasked question. “If she’s anything like I was when I found  _ my  _ missing kids, there’s gonna be a lot of emotions involved. No offense, but I barely know any of you—I think I’ll be more useful in negotiation talks once things settle down from the initial explosion.” 

“Explosion’s the wrong word,” Selene said. “Beakley’s more of a flash-freeze kind of anger.”

“Is she really gonna be that mad?” Lena asked.

“There’s… a possibility,” Webby said. “I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t hurt you, but just to be sure, let’s not talk about how you kidnapped me, okay?”

“I can’t put into words how little I want to bring that up with her,” Lena assured.

Selene raised an eyebrow. “Wait, you  _ what?” _

“Oops! There’s the palace,” Webby said nervously. “Better get going!”

Selene shook her head, letting out a small, wry laugh. “Man, this is gonna be one heck of a story. Don’t let your grandmother kill you before you can tell me, okay? And good luck.”

“You kids stay safe, okay?” Della said. “Promise you’ll come get us if anything goes wrong. Even if I’m not your mom.”

“Which you aren’t,” Lena reminded.

Webby gave them an appreciative smile and elbowed Lena at the same time. “We promise. Thanks.”

They exchanged one final goodbye before the two of them swam off somewhere. Lena faced forward again, and sure enough, the palace was in view now. It looked to be made of coral, winding spires stretching up towards the surface of a tranquil lake, and several banners depicting golden tridents hung from window sills, folding and swaying with the currents. 

“Miss Webbigail!” greeted a mermaid guard as they approached the main entrance. He was weirdly jacked, and looked shocked to see Webby. He bent low, putting one hand over his heart and spreading the other up towards the heavens, his tail moving up to hold his trident as he did so. “O, joyous day! Our lost Heiress returns! I never doubted your safety, and, lo, how rewarded I am for my faith! Such is the power of positive thinking.”

“It’s good to see you too, Storkules,” Webby said, a subdued fondness to her voice. “I need to see my Granny.”

“But of course!” Storkules said, stepping aside. “Proceed; proceed!”

Upon entering the palace, they were near-instantly intercepted by a long, thin, and positively ancient mermaid. He noticed Webby, and raised a single eyebrow. “Miss Webbigail. How thoughtful of you to return.”

Webby gave him a flat look. “Nice to see you too, Duckworth. I’m glad I was missed.”

“Mmmm,” said Duckworth.

“You’re a real sentimental guy, huh,” Lena observed.

“I’m professional.”

Webby rolled her eyes. “I’ll just go up, then.”

“Allow me,” Duckworth said, swimming ahead of them. Webby opened her beak, but he cut her off before she could speak. “I am not trying to coddle you, My Heiress; rather, My Matriarch is not expecting visitors, much less any so personal. I would prefer to not have you barge in unannounced.”

Webby frowned, but relented. “…Right.” 

He led them up through the palace, and Lena took the time to admire the plants, tapestries, paintings, and furnishing lining the palace halls. She was sure being stuck anywhere for fifteen years would get monotonous eventually, but Lena quietly thought to herself that out of all the places Webby could’ve grown up, this one didn’t seem so bad. 

They approached a set of particularly large doors, which Lena assumed led to the throne room. Duckworth promptly pushed them open, revealing a large mermaid with a tight bun sitting on the throne, beak buried in some official documents, golden trident leaning against the wall.

Duckworth cleared his throat. “My Matriarch; there’s someone here to see you.”

Beakley let out a sigh. “Duckworth, I told you, I’m not taking visitors.”

“I’m afraid she’s rather important, madam.” 

“Who could be so important as to—” She looked up, and stopped dead. “…Webby?”

Webby flashed a reserved, almost sad smile. “Hey, Granny.”

Lena flicked her tail to back away as Beakley slowly rose from the throne, disbelief scrawled across her face. “I thought you were gone,” she said quietly. “I thought Magica had gotten you, too.”

Webby looked around a bit, considering her words. “She… she did. For a little while, on Cape Suzette. But Lena helped me break out and get away.” 

She gestured with her tail over towards where Lena was floating, and Beakley’s gaze shifted over to her; it was like she was under a giant magnifying glass, every little piece of her being scrutinized all at once. 

“Lena,” Beakley said, her voice only betraying the slightest bit of emotion. “If you helped my granddaughter escape the clutches of that witch, then I am greatly in your debt. I presume you ingested Webbigail’s pelagic key? You must be very important to one another.”

“Oh, um, not that important,” Webby said awkwardly. “We’re just friends!”

Lena had to try very, very hard not to facepalm. 

“…Right,” Beakley said. “Did you two meet on Cape Suzette?”

Webby and Lena exchanged a glance. Lena took a deep breath, which turned out to be a lot less relaxing when she was inhaling a lungful of water. “No, we met earlier, a ways away from this island. She approached my ship, and we let her on board.”

Beakley was silent for a moment; apparently, Webby couldn’t take it, because she burst out into a long-winded apology. “I’m so sorry!” she began, the words falling out of her mouth like rocks in an avalanche. “I know you grounded me, and I’m really sorry I left and ran away, but it wasn’t supposed to be for this long! I just wanted to see what it was like outside of the island—and it’s  _ amazing _ by the way, I met so many cool people like Lena and her crew, and we went on adventures, and I don’t really regret it—but I’m really sorry I disobeyed you!”

Beakley blinked. “I… We’ll discuss the repercussions of your actions later, Webby,” she said. “The important thing is that you’re here now, and you’re safe. Additionally, I would like to learn a bit more about what exactly happened to you. Webby mentioned you have a crew, Lena; are you the captain of the ship that Webby saw when she first snuck out?”

“Yeah,” Lena said. “Uh—ma’am.” 

“I see,” Beakley noted. “It is unusual for someone so young to have their own ship and crew. Are you part of a sailing family? Perhaps a Navy prodigy?”

Lena took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to mention kidnapping Webby, but there was a difference between omission and lying; if she wanted Beakley to trust her, and to trust their plan, then she would have to be honest.

“I’m a pirate,” she said, keeping her gaze steady and her voice level. “My name is Lena Sabrewing, and I’m the captain of the Sunlight pirates. Ma’am.”

The silence that followed was deafening. 

“…I see,” Beakley said at last.

“The good kind of pirates, though!” Webby defended hastily, waving her arms about. “I know you don’t think they exist, but Lena and the others let me join their crew, and they’re really nice! They’re not like Magica at all, they—they’re really strong!”

“You  _ joined _ their  _ crew?” _ Beakley said, voice rising slightly. “Webbigail Vanderquack, did you run away and  _ become a pirate?” _

Webby gulped. “Maybe a little bit?” 

Beakley clenched her jaw and glared.

“But they’re  _ good people!” _ Webby stressed. “They cared for me, they helped me, they did everything they could to keep me safe—they’re my friends, Granny! Something that  _ you _ never let me even have!”

Beakley rolled her eyes. “If this is how you want to  _ rebel _ against me, Webby, then—”

“That’s not it!” Webby said, her own voice growing louder as well. “Not everythings about you! If I were rebelling, I wouldn’t have come back. Don’t you understand that? I’m here because I want to work  _ with _ you! Lena and Violet—they know tons about magic, and they’re  _ strong. _ They can give us the edge we need against Magica! If we all work together, we could probably  _ beat _ her!”

“No,” Beakley said, taking the arms of her throne in a vice grip. “Absolutely not. Running away from home is one thing, but fighting Magica de Spell? You’d be killed, Webby. I won’t allow it. You’re going to stay here with me and everyone else where she can’t find us—where she can’t hurt us. I will…  _ allow _ your…  _ pirate crew” _ —she spat the word—“to dock and stay on the isle, as repayment for returning you safely to me. But  _ all _ of you will be under constant supervision, and none of you will be allowed to leave the Isle. Are we understood?”

Webby’s teeth were grinding, her claws in fists by her sides, tail lashing about. “You’re not  _ listening!” _

“She’ll find you, you know,” Lena said icily.

Beakley turned an eye on Lena. “Excuse me?”

“Magica,” Lena said. “She’ll find you. You can’t hide forever. But we have a plan—we have a way to neutralize her shadow magic. If we do that, with your forces, we should be able to overwhelm her and take her down before she has time to grow any stronger. We can’t let her have free reign here.”

“I said  _ no,” _ Beakley stressed. “Know your place,  _ pirate. _ You want me to send my people into a massacre? Admiral McDuck asked the same of me ten years ago, and you know what came of that? I lost my only daughter and her husband to that witch, and now look—she’s back and stronger than ever. She may find us eventually, but the enchantments surrounding this island are strong. I see no wisdom in handing our lives to her on a silver platter.”

“But what about all the people out there?” Webby cried, flinging her arm out. “All the land dwellers? Magica will kill them! If we have the power to help them—”

“They do not  _ deserve _ our help,” Beakley sneered, her tail flicking angrily to the side. “They sell us, kill us, skin us and hang our scales up on their walls. It is my duty as Matriarch to look out for my people; the land dwellers can fend for themselves.”

“Why don’t you  _ trust _ me?” Webby screamed. Lena could see tears forming in her eyes, dispersing into the water around her. “We can beat her! We’re  _ stronger _ than her! You, me, Lena, Violet, Selene and the rest of the mermaids—if we all work together, we can stop her for good! I know you’re scared, but it was  _ you _ who told me that I can’t let fear get in the way of doing what has to be done. You’re just being selfish!”

Beakley frowned. “Webby,” she said darkly, “you don’t understand what you’re talking about. I won’t discuss this plan of yours any further. Don’t make me send you to your room.”

“Webby…” Lena said softly, reaching out towards her. “Maybe we should let it be for now; talk to her again tomorrow.”

“No!” Webby was trembling, her clenched fists shaking in the water. She was staring her grandmother down with one of the fiercest expressions Lena had ever seen: a mixture of defiance, fear, anger, and raw determination. “I can’t—I can’t let fear get in the way of doing what has to be done,” she said, her voice both commanding and unsteady. “Bentina Beakley, I challenge you to a Crimson Riptide.”

Beakley’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open just a little before she caught herself. Off to the side, Duckworth gasped slightly, breaking from his perfectly-curated silence. 

“A what?” Lena asked, dumbly.

Beakley ignored her, setting her gaze on her granddaughter. “Webbigail, I am giving you one chance to take that back.”

Webby met her look with a glare of her own, silent.

“…Very well,” Beakley said, letting out a sigh. “I shall see you again tomorrow morning, in the royal gardens. Perhaps after this, you’ll understand.”

“See you tomorrow,” Webby said, voice low. “C’mon, Lena.”

She grabbed Lena’s hand and dragged her out of the throne room, Beakley’s cold stare snipping at their tails as they went, as Lena desperately tried to figure out what Webby had just gotten herself into.


	19. Lost in the Sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News of the Crimson Riptide spreads across the Isle as Webby prepares to face her grandmother.

Lena followed Webby all the way out of the palace and down a river that split off from the central lake. The scenery changed as they swam, with lush, colorful plants beginning to sprout up from the riverbed, decoratively arranged to border a few pathways through the garden. Webby ignored the suggested paths, however, instead opting to plunge straight into the foliage, settling down among the weeds and coral.

Lena followed her in, stalling next to her in the water. “Sooooo… Your grandma seems nice.”

Webby let out a single, harsh laugh.

“I’m proud of you,” Lena went on. “I never really took you for the rebellious type, but you were great back there. I could never stand up like that to Magica.”

“That’s because Granny isn’t Magica,” Webby said, playing with a few stray shells on the ground. “She actually _does_ love me. She wants to keep me safe. I just wish she realized that the best way to keep me safe would be to actually _listen_ to me and do something about Magica while we have an opportunity. But I guess that’s too much to ask.”

“Well… she seemed to be listening at the end there,” Lena said. “What did you even challenge her to? What’s a Crimson Riptide?”

“It’s a traditional way for mermaids to settle disputes through combat,” Webby explained. 

“Oh.” Lena let that sink in. “Wait, you’re gonna _fight_ her?”

“Yes,” Webby said. “Don’t try to stop me.”

“I’m not! I’m not,” Lena stressed. “I just… it’s not to the _death_ or anything, right?”

“Don’t worry, it’s not,” Webby assured. Then she cocked her head to the side. “I mean, not necessarily?”

“Okay, so, still worrying,” Lena said.

“The rules of a Riptide state that the conflict ends when one of the principal parties gives up,” Webby said. “And, well… stab someone enough times, and no matter how stubborn they are, they’ll give up one way or another. I don’t expect to win, though, so I plan on giving up well before things get hairy. Also, Granny would never really hurt me; like I said, she isn’t _Magica.”_

That did make Lena feel better, actually. “Just be careful,” she said. “Why did you challenge her, though? If you don’t expect to win?”

“I need her to know I’m taking this seriously,” Webby said, curling up on herself. “I need her to know that I’m not playing around. I just don’t know how else to get that across to her.”

Lena nodded. “Right. Well, you give her a good fight for me, okay?”

“Actually…” Webby looked away, fidgeting some more with the shells. “Riptides allow for a participant’s trusted partner to fight alongside them. But, um—only i-if you want to. I know I said Granny won’t hurt me too bad, but mermaids kind of have a different definition of what ‘too bad’ means, and I know you get all shadowy when you get injured, so—”

“Oh I’m so in,” Lena said. “Let’s get her ass.”

“You… um, great?” Webby blinked. “Sorry. Thank you! I really appreciate it. I was just, I don’t know, not expecting the… enthusiasm?”

Lena took Webby’s claws in her own, looking into her eyes. “Webby, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” she began, “but after that conversation we just had with her, I _really_ want to punch your grandmother in the face.”

“Oh,” Webby said.

“She was so _condescending!”_ Lena said, letting go of Webby and flipping about dramatically in the water. “Like, we get it, you’ve got _issues_ —join the club! At least I don’t project them onto my family. She trained you to be some killer warrior, right? Just to lock you up in your room? That doesn’t even make any sense! And yeah, maybe boarding the first ship you saw was kinda dumb, but if you had wanted to, you could’ve killed me and the others when you tricked Louie into freeing you. You would’ve been fine! Hell, you _ran into Magica,_ the exact thing she was worried about, and you’re _still_ fine! You’re not the one with the problems here.” 

Webby stared at her.

Lena looked away, crossing her arms. “It just makes me angry.”

“No, it’s… Yeah,” Webby said. “It’s really refreshing, actually. To hear that from someone else, instead of just from my own head. It can be hard to take yourself seriously sometimes when nobody else seems to.”

“I feel that,” Lena said. “That’s one nice thing about Violet. Whenever I’m being dumb and doubting myself, she’s very good at knocking me back to reality. Usually by calling me an idiot, but it’s still nice.”

Webby laughed. “I think I prefer your insult-less approach.”

“It’s just ‘cause I have nothing to insult you for,” Lena said, slapping her tail against the ground and spraying a small clump of sand into Webby’s face. 

She squeaked as the sand pelted her. “Hey!” she laughed, brushing the sand away; but she was quick to retaliate. She flicked her tail to roll around in place, using the momentum to bring a claw down hard against the riverbed. As she did so, a current of water suddenly slammed down onto Lena’s back, sending her crashing beak-first into the sand.

She let out a grunt. “Ow! What did—what was that?”

“Current manipulation,” Webby said through her giggles. “We’re mermaids! We have some control over the water. Weren’t you the one that was lecturing me about how mermaids have internal magic and stuff?”

Lena huffed as she floated up off the ground, spitting out a few stray grains of sand. “Yeah, but I didn’t think it could be used like _this.”_

“You should see Granny,” Webby said. “When she gets going, she can make geysers strong enough to capsize a galleon!”

“I’m sure I _will_ get to see it, if this Riptide is as big of a deal as you say it is,” Lena commented.

Webby’s smile dampened slightly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“About the Riptide, actually; I’m assuming I better not break out any shadow stuff?”

“Hmm… nah, I say go for it,” Webby said after a moment of deliberation. “She’ll find out eventually, and like you said—it’s her problem, not yours. Besides, we could use every edge we can get against her. If… If we _do_ manage to beat her, then she’d _have_ to help us with Magica. It’d be considered really shameful not to, after she accepted my challenge.”

“Wait, then what if we lose?” Lena asked. “Would we have to listen to her and hide away here for the rest of our lives?”

“That’s _already_ what we have to do. She’s the Matriarch.”

“…Good point.” They lapsed into silence, watching the weeds sway in the currents. “What now, then? We’ve got a while until tomorrow morning.”

“I don’t really know,” Webby said. “Maybe I could show you around the gardens?”

Lena smiled cheekily at her. “Mmm, how romantic.”

“Hey, this might be the closest thing to an actual date we’ll have, like, ever.”

“Alright, Pink. That sounds really nice, actually.” Lena swam closer, wrapping an arm around Webby’s middle.

She let out a delighted hum, leaning into Lena. “Yeah. It does.”

* * *

Della slammed open the doors to the throne room, eyebrows arched down and fangs bared. “Beakley! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Apologies, my Matriarch,” Duckworth said from the hallway. “I was unable to stop her.”

“Oh, no worries, Duckworth,” Beakley greeted warmly from the throne, eyes scanning over the two of them. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Della. Did you arrive along with Webby and Lena? I suppose you weren’t able to find Scrooge, then. I’m sorry; I know he was important to you.”

Della crossed her arms. “No, but I _did_ find your granddaughter—you know, the one you’re going to _fight?!”_

“Ah, yes,” Beakley said. “That. It’s reassuring, I suppose, to know that the rumor mills are operating at full productivity even in this crisis.” 

“Jeez, if I had known you reuniting with Webby would escalate into _armed combat,_ I would’ve come along after all!” Della threw up her hands. “I mean, seriously? What’s _with_ you?!”

“She was the one who challenged me,” Beakley said. “What would you have me do? Turn her down?”

_“Yes!”_ Della exclaimed. “Do that!”

Beakley regarded her cooly. “Perhaps you don’t understand the significance of a Crimson Riptide. It isn’t the sort of challenge one refuses.”

“There’s _no way_ that any sort of cultural customs justify you fighting Webby!”

“Refusing a Riptide is a _horrible_ personal offense, Della,” Beakley explained. “I would be practically spitting in her face. Not only that, I would be going against the very ideals that I as Matriarch am sworn to uphold.”

“I—but even still,” Della stressed. “I just… I could _never_ hurt my own children. I could never draw my sword against them. When I heard they’d run off to be pirates, I was terrified of what would happen if the next time I met them was years down the line, if I ran into them on the seas and had no choice but to fight them. I’d do _everything_ to avoid that.”

“We have more in common than I thought, then,” Beakley said. “But I’m afraid our cultures are very different. I have two options here: duel with Webbigail, and in doing so treat her like the mermaid that she is, or refuse to fight her, and have her hate me even more than she already does.”

Della frowned. “Webby doesn’t hate you.”

“Perhaps hate is too strong a word, but she is certainly angry with me. Angry enough that she feels her only recourse is to meet me trident to trident.” Beakley let out a sigh, slumping in her throne. “Sometimes I worry that I have been a horrid grandmother, but I can’t lose Webby. I _can’t._ The world out there is a dangerous, ruthless machine that takes good people and grinds them up into dust and filth. I don’t regret keeping her from it. And if she hates me for that, well—at least she’s there to hate.” 

Della let that sink in, staring worriedly at the mermaid in front of her; so strong, and so scared, and so old, and so scarred. “What are you going to do after the Riptide?”

“I imagine that would depend on if Webby honors the terms and backs down,” Beakley answered. “I have no intention to hurt her, but I do not plan to let her win. Hopefully, she’ll realize that I’m serious about this, and agree to stay here and stop pursuing her plans against Magica.”

“She’s serious too,” Della said. “I know they’re children, but don’t write off their plan.”

Beakley rolled her eyes. “And what _is_ this coveted plan? They were awfully vague about it when they spoke with me earlier.”

“Well… So, Lena’s first mate, Violet, has shadow magic similar to the kind Magica has. They think she’ll be able to counteract Magica’s influence over shadows and prevent our forces from being overwhelmed.”

Beakley’s face shifted nigh-imperceptibly. “Fire with fire… a decent start, but it would hardly be enough. With her full power, it took an entire fleet of Navy ships and all of my most venerated warriors to best her, and still we were unable to snuff her out completely.” She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, Della, but I can’t put my people through that. Still, thank you for coming to chat; I appreciate the perspective.”

“…Right,” Della said. “Of course. It was nice to talk.”

Beakley gave her a polite nod, and Duckworth ushered her out of the throne room. Selene was waiting in the hall for her, a nervous expression on her face.

“Any luck?”

“Not much,” Della admitted. “You were right. She’s in a bad place.”

“She was never the same after Webby’s parents died. Webby going missing and Magica coming back just brought all of that to the forefront.” Selene shook her head. “It’s a shame, too; I was thinking she might finally be moving on.”

“I don’t think that’s something you can ever move on from.”

Selene looked back to the closed doors. “You’re probably right.”

“I feel bad for Webby, having to deal with all of this,” Della said after a moment. “It couldn’t have been easy growing up under all that.”

“It wasn’t,” Selene admitted. “But she got through it alright, and now she’s doing her damndest trying to drag Beakley through it, too. She’ll be fine, I think—she’s strong.”

“They all are,” Della said.

“Come on,” Selene said after a moment, motioning down the hall with a flick of her head. “Let’s get going. Big day tomorrow.”

“Right.”

* * *

The next day, after a surprisingly tasty breakfast of freshly-caught raw fish, Lena followed Webby back to the royal gardens. The atmosphere today was almost comically disparate from the ‘date’ they’d had here yesterday; instead of the peaceful, tranquil gardens they had swam through, it was packed with mermaids, milling about in a large circle and talking amongst themselves. Lena could spot Beakley’s towering form in the middle of her subjects, her tail absently treading the water as she waited.

After the first mermaid spotted their approach, it was like a wave spread out across the crowd, countless heads swiveling towards them as the talking died down to hushed, anticipatory whispers.

“Jeez,” Lena mumbled. “I didn’t realize we’d be performing for an audience.”

“Someone challenging the Matriarch to a Riptide is a big deal,” Webby said. “Even if that someone is her granddaughter. _Especially_ if that someone is her granddaughter. Not to, um, brag, but I’m actually one of the stronger fighters in the Isle, so I think they’re expecting at least something of a match, you know?”

Lena smirked. “Then let’s give it to them.”

The crowd parted to let them in, and then all of a sudden they were in front of Beakley, her eyes settling over them like hot irons, burning at Lena’s skin. 

“I hope you’re not thinking of backing out now,” Beakley said.

“Sorry,” Webby said, “but no.”

“Very well.” Beakley’s gaze shifted to Lena. “You may watch back with the others, Lena. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.”

Lena steeled her gaze, drawing her cutlass from her belt. “No. I’m fighting with her.”

For a second, the crowd fell eerily silent, and then, in a rush, all the mermaids began murmuring excitedly to one another, sneaking glances at Lena and hurriedly looking away when she twisted her head their way. Hell, even _Beakley_ looked taken aback, her eyes slightly wider than usual.

“Why are they all whispering?” Lena mumbled to Webby. “You said this was within the rules!”

Webby looked a bit uncomfortable at the question. “I-I mean, it’s not like they _knew._ It’s gonna be a bit of a shock. I thought you would’ve expected that?”

“This is more than a _bit_ of a shock. Why would me fighting with you be such a big deal?”

“It’s not that you’re _fighting,_ really, its that you’re—you know…” Webby fumbled over her explanation, trying to find the words. “It’s like I said yesterday: only a participant’s trusted partner is allowed to fight with them. And nobody really knew we were…” She trailed off, gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

“Wait.” Lena blinked, a sudden realization running her over like a warship. “When you say ‘trusted partner,’ do you mean ‘significant other?’”

“Okay, so.” Webby swallowed. “If that’s a land-dweller term for a committed romantic partner, then, um, yes.”

Beakley’s eyes, still trained on Lena’s head, suddenly felt a few degrees hotter.

“So, pirate,” she said, raising a single eyebrow, “you seek to take my granddaughter’s hand, do you?”

Lena’s grip on her sword started to slip. “Oh my god.” Did this really have to happen _now?_

“Sorry,” Webby mumbled.

Beakley ignored them. “An outsider has not been a part of the Matriarchal line since the dawn of our society, but if you claim to love her enough to paint the Riptide crimson for her, then I will be sure to give you a fair chance. Prove your worth to the Mermaids through your mettle; your dedication to Webbigail through your blood.”

Lena narrowed her eyes. She could play this game. “Poetic, but I’m not asking for your permission.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Beakley said. “I know your type. I’m not laying out terms—I’m issuing a warning.”

“Then why don’t you put your trident where your mouth is and fight,” Webby goaded suddenly, coiling aggressively in the water. 

Beakley seemed a bit taken aback by the outburst, but readily composed herself, letting out a sigh. “Very well. Just know that whatever happens next, Webby, I love you.”

“…I love you too, Granny,” Webby said after a moment. “But I also love Lena. I love the rest of my crew. I love the _world._ If you want me to stay away from it for the rest of my life, you’re going to have to make me.” She stretched out to her full length, showing the side to her that she usually kept hidden under all the smiles and friendship bracelets, and pointed her trident at her grandmother, a clear accusation. “So go ahead—make me.”

Beakley gave her nothing but a curt nod in acknowledgement before bursting forward like a gunshot. The water seemed to bend around her as she cut through the ocean, the sharp points of her trident, claws, and fangs glimmering in the filtered sunlight. Lena readied her weapon, exchanged a brief look with Webby, and took a deep breath.

_Here we go._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AMAZING take on mermaid Lena was drawn by Quad!!! Big thanks to them for the drawing. You can check him out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Quadrelll) and [tumblr](https://quadrell.tumblr.com/) :D


	20. How to be Mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We dance in the Crimson Riptide, and stain the waters red.

“Hit me,” Huey said, looking down at his cards.

Louie gave him a look. “You sure?”

“Yep!”

Louie shrugged and dealt him another card from the deck—the four of spades. “Ha!” Huey exclaimed. “Nineteen!”

“What?!” Dewey looked down at his cards in dismay, which only added up to petty sixteen. “Come on!”

Louie, who had drawn an unlucky nine the previous round and gone right over twenty-one, couldn’t really care less. 

“Hit me,” Violet said. Louie dealt her a card, and she laid it on her pile without so much as looking. “I win.”

“Wh—” Huey blinked, staring down at the seven of hearts she’d just drawn, which sure enough brought her up to a clean twenty. “How?”

“I’m counting cards,” she said matter-of-factly as she rounded up the pot of gold in the middle.

“You’re not supposed to admit that, Vi,” Louie said.

Violet shrugged.

“Hey, do you think Webby and Lena are doing alright down there?” Dewey wondered aloud as Louie began dealing out the next hand.

“Oh,” Violet said, “I’m sure they’re fine.”

* * *

Webby took a steadying breath as her Granny shot towards them. She felt the change in the water first: a rush and a pull as Beakley manipulated the flow of the currents to propel herself along. Webby tightened her grip on her trident and swam out to meet her, swooping in front of Lena, and struck out at the head of Beakley’s trident.

A jolt of force went down Webby’s arm as the gold and silver prongs interlocked, and she grit her teeth as her muscles strained against the force of Beakley’s thrust. Quickly realizing she wasn’t going to win a battle of brute strength, she skirted to the side and let her trident spin downwards from the pressure of Beakley’s attack, using the momentum to jab the opposite end at her Granny’s exposed chest. 

Beakley was ready, though, and one clawed hand shot out, grabbing the shaft of Webby’s trident before it could connect. She yanked hard, and Webby let out a yelp as she was pulled inwards; she saw Beakley’s trident coming in towards her neck, no doubt going for a pin to force a forfeit, and Webby had no choice but to let go of her weapon and throw herself back with a pump of her tail. Beakley’s strike went wide, but she flowed with the swing, bringing Webby’s trident around in her opposite arm for a backhanded blow. 

Webby managed to curl up in time so that the hardy scales on her tail blocked the attack, and she retreated to a safe distance before Beakley could make another follow up. She grimaced—not twenty seconds in, and she was already disarmed. This might be harder than she thought.

And then from somewhere below them, a beam of bright blue light slammed into Beakley’s claw. Her scales protected her, but the force of the laser caused her to grunt and release her grip on Webby’s trident. 

“Gah! What—?!”

Webby seized the opportunity, rushing forward and diving for her weapon. She wrapped her claws around its shaft, and then flipped downwards, her tail trailing after her to put a shield between herself and Beakley as she swam away to recover. 

Beakley tried to thread her trident through Webby’s guard, but Webby blocked with the length of her own, catching Beakley’s between the prongs. Before Beakley could try again, another beam of magic shot up from the gardens below, forcing her to pull back.

“Blasted sorcery,” she mumbled, her eyes narrowing as she cast a glance downwards.

Webby took the opportunity to follow her gaze, and saw that Lena was hiding amongst the reeds and coral, her friendship bracelet glowing a rich blue as she held her cutlass aloft. She frowned when she noticed Beakley’s gaze was on her, and mumbled something under her breath. The light from her bracelet spilled forward and wreathed her sword in energy, shining blindingly for a split second before all the built up magic shot forth from the sword’s tip, a bright blue laser streaking through the water at Beakley.

Beakley raised one claw and swatted it out of the air, sending the beam careening harmlessly off towards the surface of the river. “I  _ hate _ magic.”

Webby swam forward, hoping to hit Beakley while she was distracted, but she ducked the swing and dove down towards Lena, snarling.

“Lena!” Webby called. She gripped the current in her claws and propelled herself downwards, but Beakley was much faster, bearing down on Lena like a shark after prey.

Lena shot another beam, but Beakley deflected it just as easily as the last one. Lena frowned as the magic in her sword died out in wake of the blast, Beakley’s shadow falling over her face. “Shit.”

* * *

The rowboat rocked from side to side as Goldie steered them in alongside a dock. The island in front of them was small and thickly wooded, but Scrooge could make out a semblance of civilization a ways into the forest, with paths hacked through the foliage and traces of smoke rising above the canopy.

“Be a dear and tie us off, won’t you?” Goldie said, tossing a pile of rope over to Scrooge as she stepped out onto the pier. 

Scrooge grumbled a little, but took the rope and started fastening the boat to the dock. “So, now that we’re here, would you mind telling me  _ why _ we’re here? And possible where ‘here’ is?”

“Nope,” Goldie said. “Stop worrying so much. I want to bring Magica down as much as you do—nobody’s gonna be ruling over  _ me. _ This little detour should help give us an edge against her.”

“I guess I’ll just wait in the boat, then,” Scrooge said, crossing his arms.

Goldie laughed. “Oh, Scrooge. You’re part of the plan! Why do you think I’m dragging you along? Come on.”

She motioned for him to follow as she started walking off towards the forest. Scrooge let out a huff, but tagged along after her all the same. “How am I supposed to help you with your plan if I don’t even know what it is?”

“Because my plans always work,” Goldie said. “Not even  _ you _ can screw them up. Besides, if I told you the plan beforehand, you would refuse to help me.”

Scrooge frowned. “Well, if that’s the case, then I shouldn’t help you regardless, eh?”

“But you still will, because you’re curious,” Goldie said. “We both know how this goes. Now stop wasting time.”

Scrooge shook his head, letting out a sigh as he followed her into the woods. They picked their way through, following the rough trail until they came across a sizable building nestled amongst the trees. It was unmarked and in a severe state of disrepair. Scrooge would’ve thought it abandoned, were it not for the smoke rising from its chimney and the muffled chatter he could make out from within if he strained his ears. 

“What’s a dingy old shack like this doin’ out in the middle of nowhere?” Scrooge asked.

“This is a little pet project of mine,” Goldie said, leading him around to a back exit. With a quick flick of her wrist, a lockpick slipped out of her sleeve, and a second later, she had the door open. “You’ll see.”

She led Scrooge into what looked to be a backstage area, dusty music stands and severe wooden stools piled against one wall and a curtain drawn across another. He could hear the chaotic harmony of dozens of simultaneous conversations from the other side of the curtain, punctuated by the clanking of mugs. Scrooge figured this must be some sort of underground bar, and that the stage they were on was for in-house entertainment. Judging by Goldie’s previous comment, this was probably one of her safehouses that she’d made into a tavern as a side hustle—the only question left, then, was what coming here had to do with beating Magica.

“Now just wait back here until I call you out onstage, mmkay?” Goldie said. “Don’t worry, your part is the easy part—just don’t make a scene, and we should be fine.”

“And why are you worried about me making a scene?” Scrooge accused.

“Just wait for your cue!” Goldie said, blowing him a kiss before stepping through the curtain.

A hush fell over the tavern goers as she walked out onto stage. Scrooge listened from the other side of the curtain as she began talking, in that way she always did when she was swindling someone.

“It’s good to see so many familiar faces out here!” Goldie opened. “Thank you all for coming out tonight. Now, I know some of us have had our differences in the past, but we all have a common thorn in our side these days:  _ Magica de Spell.” _ A wave of boos jeers came from the crowd, but quickly settled back down, no doubt at Goldie’s behest. “Who does that lady think she is? Rule the seas? Pah! The seas aren’t meant to be ruled! The seas are for  _ everyone _ who has a ship and the guts to brave it. It’s time we took that witch down a notch! And on that point, I’d like to introduce a very special guest:  _ Scrooge McDuck!” _

Scrooge took a deep breath and pushed through the curtain—and then froze. He was looking out across a sea of shocked faces, all of which he recognized from the ever-present wanted posters that hung outside HQ. This wasn’t just a safe house for  _ Goldie— _ she must have made it into a neutral zone for  _ all pirates.  _

Scrooge gulped as his eyes scanned across the practical sea of pirates, their shock slowly turning to outrage as they realized who he was, and he shot a pleading look at Goldie, who just winked.

“Curse me kilts,” he murmured.

* * *

“Shit,” Lena said.

Beakley sighed internally as she closed in on the girl. Of course she had a dirty mouth, too. What should she expect? She loved Webby dearly, and she wanted to be supportive, but she was making it rather difficult.

Beakley thrust out with her trident once she was on top of Lena; she struck early, aiming to catch Lena’s blade between the prongs of her trident so she could disarm her. But before her weapon could make contact, Lena’s body warbled and dissolved, turning into an inky black that melted seamlessly into the shadows of the plants around them.

_ Shadow magic. _

Beakley hissed in frustration, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it, as she felt Webby coming at her from above. She swiveled around to meet her, and they exchanged a few blows — Webby was certainly stronger then the last time they had sparred, but she wasn’t much of a match for Beakley in direct combat, and Beakley found herself easily gaining ground. She even nicked her a few times when Webby was slow to dodge, superficial scratches spilling traces of blood into the water as they danced.

But then, just as she was about to convert into a knockout blow to the side of Webby’s head, Lena materialized out of Webby’s shadow. Her arm shot forward, bracelet glowing bright, and a shield expanded outwards, Beakley’s trident glancing off of it awkwardly. Suddenly out of position, Beakley frantically flipped back in the water, twisting out of the path of Webby’s trident and roughly blocking Lena’s sword with her forearm’s scales. But before she could counterattack, Webby and Lena were floating before her, hand in hand, wreathed in a blue aura, their bracelets shining brilliantly. Beakley barely had time to open her beak in shock before the blast of magic hit her dead in the chest, pulling a scream from her lips and sending her tumbling backwards through the water.

The crowd of mermaids surrounding them let out a collective gasp, but Beakley cut it off quickly, rising back to her fighting stance as if nothing had happened. The fresh burn on her chest stung, but she was far from incapacitated. 

She let out a hum of reserved approval. “Alright,” she muttered. “Gloves off, then.”

With a roar, she gestured outwards and away with her claws, summoning two opposing currents that ripped Webby and Lena away from each other. Then, with a lash of her tail, she simultaneously sped forward and shifted the currents to slam into Webby from above, pummeling her down to the riverbed and trapping her against the sand. 

Webby let out a yelp which quickly turned into a cough as she hacked sand from her lungs, but Beakley ignored her, focusing on Lena. She was exposed in the open water, without any shadows to run away to—now was Beakley’s chance. She sprung forward, trident poised, and struck out; Lena blocked in a reverse parry with her sword, but Beakley let her, shifting out of the blow to a one-handed grip. She surged forward, rolling within Lena’s guard, and raked her claws across Lena’s sword arm. Lena let out a cry of pain as Beakley’s talons tore through fabric and skin, dropping like a rock in the water to get out of Beakley’s reach. 

“Lena!” Webby shouted. Beakley felt a surge of resistance against her current as Webby squeezed out of it.

Meanwhile, Lena was recovering, her arm hanging limp at her side as her blood dispersed into the water. Something else was happening there, too, around the wound—it was hard to make out past the blood, but it looked almost like shadows were dancing about the edges of her ruptured skin. She had switched her sword to her other hand, and was glaring up at Beakley, face contorted with pain.

“You can give up whenever you want,” Beakley said smoothly.

“I’m not out yet,” Lena said, her voice tinged with grit. Then she let herself sink down to the gardens, and disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

The bar was  _ chaos. _

“What’s  _ he _ doing here?” Ma Beagle of the Beagle Pirates shouted, waving her infamous handbag around like a flail. Her many, many children egged her on, the combined crew taking up a good chunk of the bar’s seating. “You know how many of my boys that idiot’s captured?!”

“Navy scum!” called Don Karnage, captain of the Air Pirates, drawing his sword. “How dare you bring him here!”

“To kill him, obviously!” chimed in Steelbeak, banging a fist on his table. 

Across from him, Black Heron carefully lifted her mug off of the table before Steelbeak could spill it, and raised her pistol with her other hand. “For once, we agree on something.”

“Now now, settle down,” Goldie said, stepping in front of Scrooge and moving her hands placating. “The Admiral is here to offer us a  _ deal. _ If you go and kill him, none of us will get anywhere.”

“I didn’t agree to any deal,” Scrooge mumbled.

“Shut it,” Goldie hissed out of the corner of her mouth, still smiling sweetly to the crowd. They clearly respected Goldie more than they hated him, because the pirates reluctantly sheathed their weapons and sat back down. Goldie went on. “Now, the Navy is just as desperate as we are to see Magica’s wanted posters torn down, so Scroogie is here on their behalf to make us pirates an offer. Firstly, as long as we’re all working to take down de Spell, any crimes to your names will be temporarily ignored. And additionally—and this is the  _ kicker, _ folks—to whichever pirate successfully manages to kill or capture Magica de Spell, Admiral McDuck has offered a full, no-strings pardon, as well as claim to a  _ full fifty percent _ of his personal fortune!”

_ That  _ sure got the crowd going. They erupted into whoops and hollers, crying about how they’d be set for life once they took Magica down. Scrooge hardly heard it, though, turning a furious look on Goldie.

“O’Gilt, you double-dealing devil!” he whispered, as harshly as he could. “I’m not honoring that deal, and I am  _ certainly _ not working with pirates!” 

“I don’t expect you to, doofus,” Goldie whispered back breezily. “They’re not working with us, they’re  _ bait. _ If you want to  _ tell _ this room full of pirates that they’re being scammed, go ahead, but I’m not helping you escape this time.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, this plan is a total win-win for you. I expected you to be all over it.”

“I don’t play  _ dirty, _ Goldie! You know that.”

“Then you’re hardly playing at all. You want to take Magica down? Then you have to stack the deck. Now or never, Scroogie.”

Scrooge huffed, but put on a smile, turning back to the crowd. “That’s… uh, that’s right!” he called. “We may have our differences, but we can agree on two things: we hate Magica, and we love money! Who’s with me?!”

As the pirates let out shouts and jeers in affirmation, Goldie turned a satisfactory smile onto Scrooge. “There we go.”

* * *

“HRAH!” Webby shouted, her trident clanging harshly against Beakley’s. The cuts along her chest, arms and face smarted as she moved, but she was proud to see that Beakley wasn’t spotless either. In addition to the burnt feathers on her chest from their friendship blast, Webby had managed to catch her up a few times herself, and she also had one particularly long gash along her back from one of Lena’s sneak attacks.

They traded a few more blows, and then one of Lena’s lasers shot in from the side. Beakley dodged out of the way, parried Webby’s follow-up strike, and then used her tail to deflect a second laser towards Webby. She yelped, disengaging and blocking the beam of magic with her trident, but Beakley’s tail came in from her blind spot before she could recover, slamming heavily into her back.

“You left yourself open,” Beakley chastised.

Webby let out a gasp of pain as she was sent sprawling, nearly losing her grip on her trident. She didn’t know which part was worse: getting hit, or the criticism on her fighting technique that was sure to follow. 

She heard a clang from behind her as she regained her breath, and turned to see that Lena had swam up to cover her. Her swordplay was a little awkward in her left hand, but that was fine—she had bought time.

Webby opened the ever-present bag around her shoulder, and with a deep breath, tuned into the currents around her. “Lena, shadows!” she shouted, and then she yanked the water forward, sending her collection of knives shooting forward at her Granny.

Lena twisted out of the way of a trident thrust and slipped into the dark side of some nearby coral as the barrage of daggers spewed forth. Beakley snarled and punched outward with her off hand, a much stronger current surging back against Webby’s and stopping the blades in their tracks, freezing them between the two opposing forces.

In the meantime, Webby had skirted around to the side, passing her arm over the coral so Lena could slip into her shadow. Sure enough, Lena rose from beneath Webby as she closed in on her Granny, her inky form rapidly gaining shape and color as she reached up and grabbed Webby’s hand. 

Their bracelets glowed, and Webby watched as Lena’s pupils and irises disappeared, clouding up with magic. A blue aura phased into existence around the stalled daggers, and with a few sharp motions of her sword, Lena sent the daggers cutting through the water, once again making their way towards Beakley.

“Keep it up!” Webby called, pumping her tail and taking them around to Beakley’s other side. “Just a bit more!”

Lena nodded, opened her beak, made a strangled choking noise, and slammed her beak shut again. Webby spared a nervous glance down at Lena’s arm; the wounds from Beakley’s claws were closing relatively quickly, stitched back together by her magic, but clearly Lena was struggling to keep all the shadows on the inside. They had to end this soon.

Lena made a decisive slashing motion through the water as they swam, and Webby’s knives began attacking from all directions in a maelstrom of sharpened metal. Beakley was a whirlwind in the center of it all, redirecting some of the daggers with her currents while fending off others with her claws, tail, and trident, but even she wasn’t able to keep up with them all, and one of the smaller blades slipped through her defenses and sunk into her side, right beneath her rib cage. 

It was a long way from a fatal wound, or even a serious one for a mermaid of her build, but Webby couldn’t help from wincing in sympathy. Beakley let out a shriek as the blade entered, and, reflexively, the water around her pulsed outwards with a vicious force, sending all the knives rocketing away well out of Lena’s sphere of influence. 

Webby heard a few yelps from the crowd as the daggers shot away haphazardly, but she forced them out of her mind. “Shield!” she screamed over the chaos, and just like that a smooth blue bubble formed around the two of them, allowing Beakley’s defensive pulse of water to wash harmlessly over them. They reached Beakley in seconds, and Webby lined up her trident perfectly, thrusting out with silent precision.

Beakley twisted around at the last second, an animalistic look in her eyes, and caught the center prong of Webby’s trident right between her fangs, stopping it dead. Webby’s eyes widened, and everything seemed to move in slow motion as Beakley ripped her weapon from her hands and spat it off to the side, along with a small mixture of saliva and blood. At the same time, her own trident shot forward at the same time and caught Lena’s sword between its prongs. Beakley launched her trident outwards like a javelin, and it took Lena’s cutlass with it, leaving all three of them unarmed. That didn’t seem to bother Beakley, though, as an instant later, without allowing a moment for interruption, cold talons wrapped around Webby’s neck, and she found herself being propelled backwards. 

She let out a grunt as she was slammed into the riverbed, and when her vision readjusted, she saw Beakley looming over her, pinning Webby’s neck to the sand with one claw and Lena’s with the other. The stab wound in her side was still spilling blood, her teeth bared in a snarl, and Webby couldn’t help but let a distilled terror creep into her expression as she gazed up at her grandmother.

Slowly, Beakley’s face relaxed, but it never lost its edge. “That’s quite enough, girls. I think we’re done here.”

Webby and Lena exchanged a look. Lena’s eyes flicked behind them, and Webby glanced in that direction; a foot away, stuck into the sand, was Beakley’s trident, Lena’s cutlass resting just beside it.

Webby returned her gaze evenly to her Granny. “What do you think, Lena?”

Beakley made a suspicious face, and then quickly summoned a current that washed Lena’s friendship bracelet off her arm. “Nice try.”

Lena grimaced, making a nauseous face.

Beakley rolled her eyes. “You’ll get it back. No need for dramatics.”

Lena opened her beak as if to retort, but instead, she let out a loud, painful, shadow-filled cough. The mouthful of rejected shadows that Lena had been holding in for the past few minutes was violently jettisoned from Lena’s beak, and they hit Beakley square in the eyes, causing her to emit a very unladylike screech. 

_ “WHAT _ in the  _ NAME _ of  _ POSEIDON—” _

She didn’t get to finish her exclamation. Webby wasted no time, summoning a current to yank Beakley’s royal trident out of the sand and into her hands. She leapt forward, riding the flow of the water, and by the time the shadows dispersed from Beakley’s face, the trident’s point was tickling at the underside of her chin. Beakley froze briefly in fearful surprise, and that was all the time it took for Lena to materialize from Beakley’s shadow, her bracelet glowing bright from where it was clutched in one hand. A blue thread of energy snaked its way out and formed a thin circle around Beakley’s forearms; then Lena clenched her fist, and the ring of magic quickly compressed, trapping her hands to her sides.

The three of them hung there in the water for what felt like an eternity, the tension palpable; but Webby’s grip on her trident didn’t shake, the prongs staying firmly where they were, a centimeter away from Beakley’s throat. They were all panting and bleeding, but as the seconds ticked on, slowly but surely, their heart rates settled and their breathing evened out until, finally, Beakley let out a sigh, closing her eyes.

“I concede.”

Webby lowered her trident, letting the tension leave her shoulders. It was over.

She hadn’t been able to afford to pay attention to their audience up until then, but now that she could, there was nothing to pay attention  _ to— _ the thick ring of mermaids observing them were dead quiet, a mixture of shock, awe, and uncertainty.

Then, out of the silence came a singular woop and some quiet but rapid claps. Webby’s head turned to the sounds, and saw Della and Selene at the front of the crowd, applauding as fast as they could with smiles splitting their beaks. It spread like wildfire, and soon the gardens were booming with celebration. It took a few seconds before Webby found it in herself to move, but once she did, she dropped her Granny’s trident to the riverbed and burst forward, tackling Lena in a hug.

“We did it!” she cried, and the realization finally hit her, a wave of triumph and pride crashing through her with more force than any of Beakley’s attacks. She laughed, bright and weightless amongst the applause, and spun around joyfully as she pulled her girlfriend along in twisting helixes through the water. “I can’t believe we actually did it!”

“We—” Lena hacked up a couple more shadows, but she was smiling nonetheless, her beautiful eyes sparkling in that way that Webby only ever saw them do for her. “We sure did, Pink.”

Webby felt on top of the world, as light as air. That’s probably why she found her next words spilling out of her mouth before she could help it. “Can I kiss you?!”

Lena’s eyes widened, and she let out a disbelieving laugh that spilled some more shadows into the water. “What? I’m a little shadowy right now; they might get in your mouth.”

“I don’t care!”

“In front of all these people?”

“I don’t  _ care!” _ Webby stressed.

“I—” Lena laughed again, tightening their embrace. “Fuck it. I don’t care either.”

She leaned forward, and Webby met her, and their beaks clanked awkwardly together, and the crowd went even wilder, and Webby thought she heard her grandmother mumble something from beneath them, but Webby didn’t  _ care. _ She didn’t care about anything besides Lena, and in the small part of her brain still capable of coherent thought, she remembered all those years she’d spent alone in the castle, alone with the constant feeling that there was something  _ missing. _ She had  _ thought _ that she’d been missing adventure. She had  _ thought _ that she’d been missing the outside world.

But as she felt Lena’s beak brushing against hers, she realized, with sudden, perfect clarity, that she’d had no  _ idea _ what she had been missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I think this chapter turned out really well, but it was a LOT harder than I anticipated so I'm a bit behind. Might be a break next week, but hopefully not; we'll see how it plays out. Thanks for reading!!


	21. Pure of Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lena falls down some stairs.

Lena was still riding the high from the fight as she swam towards the throne room along with Beakley and Webby, smiling like an idiot. The kiss probably didn’t help either; she could still feel Webby’s beak when she closed her eyes, pressing against hers in just the right way, and— 

“Ow!” Lena exclaimed as she bonked her head on a pillar.

“Lena!” Webby’s eyes widened. “Are you okay? Is it the blood loss?”

“No, I just—” Lena blushed. “Wasn’t looking where I was going. The wound’s practically healed by now anyway.”

Della was waiting for them when they reached the throne room, flashing them a huge smile as they came in. Duckworth quietly slipped out to give them their privacy, closing the doors behind him.

“You guys were  _ amazing!” _ Della greeted, swimming up to her and Webby. “I didn’t know if you’d be able to do it, but you totally showed Beakley up! Where’d you learn to fight together like that? And congratulations! Was that your first kiss? The first one is always so special, you know? Ohhh, I’m so  _ proud!” _

She pulled them into a hug, and Lena let out some vague grumblings about how Della should get off of her, which she ignored.

“It  _ was _ so special,” Webby affirmed. 

“Thanks, Della, but I don’t think Beakley feels the same way you do,” Lena said wryly.

“Actually,” Beakley said—and Lena froze, feeling as if she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar because Beakley had  _ not _ been meant to hear that—“I must echo Della’s sentiments. The two of you fought with the strength, intelligence, and dedication of true warriors.”

“…Do you understand, then?” Webby asked softly. “I’m not playing around here. I’m not a little kid anymore. We  _ need _ to face Magica.” 

“I know you’re not playing around, Webby, but you  _ are _ still a child. And that’s why I can’t let you face her alone.” Beakley smiled; it was tight, and it shook a little on her beak, but it was warm. “You have my support.”

Webby broke into a grin, pumping her fists into the air. “Yes!”

“Huh,” Lena said. “If I had known all we had to do to get your help was kick your ass, I would’ve lead with that.”

Della shot her a disapproving mom look, which was dumb, beause she still wasn’t Lena’s mom. Beakley, for her part, looked a bit miffed by the comment, but eventually just let out a deep sigh. 

“If it helps, Lena, I am ashamed it had to come to this. I should never be beaten by children, and I do not say that as a point of pride—I should never be beaten by children because the world in which children are forced to fight to the point where they can best a seasoned warrior is a world that is cruel, and certainly not one fit to grow up in. I tried to keep you from that world, Webby, because I  _ knew _ how cruel it could be, but—” She paused, looking away from her granddaughter. “But I fear that the world I gave you, all alone in this castle, was perhaps not much better at all.”

Lena found herself turning to Webby, but she was silent, looking intently at her grandmother. She was uncharacteristically still in the water, lips pursed in thought. For once, Lena couldn’t get a read from her expression.

“Webby, you are so, so much different,” Beakley went on, “from the girl I knew before you ran away. You’re stronger, you’re smarter, and you’ve found friends and hope and…” Her eyes flicked over to Lena, betraying the emotions she was carrying within them. “And love. You’ve grown so much, and it hurt me to realize how long I’d kept you from that growth. How long I’d kept you from all the things that make you  _ more _ than just my granddaughter. I’m… sorry.”

The chamber was still for a moment, before Webby rushed forward and threw her arms around Beakley. They couldn’t quite reach all the way, the tips of her claws brushing against the back of Beakley’s rib cage, but the hug was firm.

“I’m sorry,” Beakley repeated as she returned the embrace, strong limbs squeezing around Webby. Their tails interlaced as well, curling into each other as the hug deepened.

“I forgive you,” Webby said. “I love you, Granny.”

“I love you too, Webby. So, so much.”

Eventually, they parted, and by the looks on their faces, Lena thought they were about to burst into tears. Della, on the other had, was  _ already _ crying, sniffling loudly and wiping at her eyes. Lena shot her a strange look.

“Sorry, it’s just—” Della hiccupped. “Family, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” Lena said. It was sweet, though, she had to admit.

Beakley cleared her throat, and Lena and Della turned back to face her. She had recomposed herself masterfully, as if the whole ordeal had been days ago. “So, you never told me you were a shadow spirit, Lena.”

“Oh,” Lena said, the non sequitur taking her aback. “Well, I’ve found it’s never really a good opener. But yeah, I am.”

“Of course,” Beakley said. “And… my understanding of shadow magic is hazy at best, but you must be tied to a host, right?”

Lena noticed Beakley’s eyes nervously flick towards Webby. Ah; so that’s what she was getting at.

“My current host is my sister Violet, who’s up on our ship right now,” Lena assured. “Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Beakley said quickly. “I just… your use of magic is one thing, but I didn’t expect my granddaughter to be able to use any.”

“It’s friendship magic!” Webby chirped. “From the magic friendship bracelets I made for us!”

Beakley raised an eyebrow. “…Friendship magic?”

“Sympathetic magic,” Lena corrected. “It’s complicated.”

“Give it your best shot,” Beakley said.

“So by ‘it’s complicated’ I mean I have no goddamn clue,” Lena said. “Look, I don’t actually know much about magic. All I know is I can use the bracelet as a focus for my own magic, and that when Webby and I touch, we can channel some really powerful spells together.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Beakley seemed to think for a moment. “But how do you plan on suppressing Magica’s shadow magic, then, if you don’t know much about magic? That seems like it would be rather advanced.”

“Oh, Violet’s been working on that,” Lena explained. “You’d have to ask her.”

“Then let’s go to your ship,” Beakley said. “We need to move quickly anyway if we want to have a chance.”

“Great!” Webby said, clapping her hands. “I can’t wait to show you around the ship! There’s this thing called a  _ boom…” _

* * *

“Penny, do you have any threes?”

“Go fish,” Penumbra said.

Dewey, across the table from her, pouted, drew a card from the deck, and then pouted even more. She had to admire his tenacity; he hadn’t won a single round of any game they’d played, but he never seemed to get discouraged.

She had been mildly surprised when Violet had invited her over to join in, and judging by the looks on the triplets’ faces, so had they. She supposed it made sense that they were a bit wary of her—all she’d done since they’d left Cape Suzette was lurk imposingly at the edge of conversations and silently help with maintaining the ship. But they were sweet kids, and it was easy enough to fit into the fold. She even found herself smiling a couple times, and while it was sad that that was a noticeable improvement from her days on Magica’s ship, it was the truth.

“Hey Dewey,” Louie said, in a grimy, self-satisfied way. “Got any threeeeeeees, perchance?”

“I—uh!” Dewey looked personally affronted. “My own  _ brother!” _

“Pay up, scrub,” Louie said, holding out his hand and curling his fingers inwards. Dewey reluctantly forked over a pair of cards, but just as Louie was placing them into his hand, a series of crashes from the staircase made him jump, the cards flapping down to the tabletop.

“Gah! What the—?”

They all turned to see Lena, fit with a sleek black mermaid tail, lying in a pile at the bottom of the staircase.

“I don’t have legs,” she observed.

Penumbra blinked, opened her mouth, and closed it again.

“Ah, Lena,” Violet greeted, absently looking over her hand. “You’re back. Great entrance, by the way.”

Lena pointed an accusatory talon at her. “Shut up.”

“Hey guys!” Webby said, bounding down the stairs with ease, which provoked a look of jealous frustration from Lena. “We did it! Granny’s on board!”

“Really? That’s great!” Huey said. “I knew she’d be all for it!”

“Oh, haha! She wasn’t.” Webby coughed. “We kind of had to face her in ritual combat. But we won!”

“…Ah,” Huey said.

“Sweet!” Dewey said. 

“Webby, you said Beakley knew how to undo the Pelagic Key, right?” Lena asked, rolling upright on her tail.

Webby nodded. “I think so.”

“Good, because this is so much harder than you make it look,” she groused as she started hauling herself back up the stairs.

The kids put their cards down, and Penny lead the way as they all followed Lena above deck. It was strange for Penny to see the girl so lively, trading quips with the other kids and spitting profanities as she banged her tail on the steps; she’d always been so reserved back on The Dark Eclipse, holing up in her cabin and only speaking to Violet in soft mumbles, or the occasional ‘Yes, Magica,’ that would follow after she got screamed at. It was good to see her opening up more.

“Hey, old lady!” Lena shouted as she flopped onto the main deck.

A positively massive mermaid that could only be Bentina Beakley was sitting on one of the benches with Della. “Lena,” she greeted curtly. “I know you would sooner die than show deference to perceived authority, but would a ‘Mrs. Beakley’ really kill you?”

“I need you to un-mermaid-ify me,” Lena said.

Beakley smiled sweetly. “And what’s the magic word?”

“What?” Lena made a confused face. “That’s why I’m asking you. If I  _ knew _ the magic word already I would be a few feet taller by now.”

“She wants you to say please,” Huey supplied. “It’s a saying.”

“Oh.” Lena frowned. “Well I’m not doing that.”

“Then I guess you like being a mermaid,” Beakley said.

Penumbra watched in wry fascination as they stared each other down. Eventually, Lena just crossed her arms. “Then I guess I won’t be able to properly fight against Magica, and we’ll all die.”

“You think I’m not prepared to die?” Beakley asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh my god,” Louie said, pinching the spot in between his eyes. “This is too much. Just say please.”

Lena scoffed. “Why should I?”

Just then, Webby cut in, looking up at Beakley with a pleading expression that would’ve been irresistibly sweet were it not for the deathly sharp fangs in her mouth. “Pleeeeeease, Granny?”

Beakley’s frown warbled, unsteady, until it finally broke, and she let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Fine. Over here, Lena.”

Penumbra did her best not to laugh as Lena awkwardly flopped across the deck over to Beakley. Next to her, the triplets made no such effort, giggling shamelessly until Lena froze them with a look of pure malice, promptly shutting them up. 

Eventually, Lena reached Beakley, who grabbed her by the shoulders and whirled her around so that she was in front of the larger mermaid. Then, Beakley wrapped her arms around Lena, balling one claw into a fist and wrapping her other around it, right below Lena’s rib cage. “Hold still,” she instructed.

Lena blinked. “Wait, what are you— _ HRRK!” _

Penumbra’s hand shot to her mouth as Beakley squeezed fast and tight against Lena’s stomach, and Lena made a brief choking sound before she spit out a small, iridescent pearl. There was a flash of light, and then, once Penumbra could see again, Lena was standing on two feet, and a small conch shell sat on the deck where the pearl had been. 

“There you are,” Beakley said, patting lena on the back and returning to her spot on the bench.

Everyone was silent for a few seconds, and then Lena said, with a tone of utter disbelief, “What the fuck.”

“…You know, I was kind of expecting it to be more magical,” Huey muttered after a moment. Dewey and Louie just looked confused.

Slowly, Lena reached down and picked up the Pelagic Key, offering it up to Webby. “Uh—here.”

Webby pulled the empty cord out of her bag and threaded it through a hook on the Key, but instead of putting it around her own neck, she put it around Lena’s.

“I want you to keep it,” Webby said, smiling. “It’s yours now. Once this is all over, you’re going to need it if you want to visit Mermaid Isle again.”

Lena returned her smile, soft and light. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Gay,” Louie said.

Webby and Lena both broke out into a blush, and Lena jabbed a finger at him.  _ “Grounded.” _

“That’s not—I mean, I  _ guess _ it is, but—” Webby fumbled for words, and eventually just settled for letting out a whine as she covered her face with her hands.

Penumbra almost felt bad as the triplets pounced on them like sharks at the first smell of blood, leaning towards them with predatory smirks.

“Ooh, did you two have a nice  _ daaaaate?” _ Dewey teased in a sing-song voice.

Lena was growing increasingly red, and increasingly indignant. “I—that’s—I swear to  _ god— _ ” 

“Yeah, did you  _ smooooch  _ on your  _ daaaate _ ?” Huey added, making little kissy noises with his beak.

“WHAT?!” Webby said, far too loudly, waving them off. “NO WE DIDN’T KISS AT ALL WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT I NEED TO GO!”

Louie’s eyes widened. “Wait, you  _ did?” _

“Right under your grandmother’s roof, too _ ,”  _ Violet said, shaking her head and clicking her tongue in mock disapproval. “How rebellious.”

“Go, go, go!” Lena said, grabbing Webby by the hand and running below deck.

“You’re not getting away that easily!” Dewey said, chasing after them. “You’re telling us  _ everything!” _

“Aw, let them have their space,” Violet called, loud enough to carry down into the ship. “I’m sure they’re just going to cargo hold to refresh their memories.”

“I’ll  _ kill  _ you, Vi!” came Lena’s voice from below.

“Ah… Young love,” Della said warmly as the kids all disappeared below deck. 

“They’re certainly something,” Beakley agreed. Then she turned to Della, her expression growing more serious. “While we’re here, would you like me to turn you back into a duck as well?”

“I—” Della stopped short, looking away, troubled. “I don’t know.”

Beakley frowned, puzzled. “Why not?”

“It’s…” Della shot Penumbra a pleading look.

“Her leg,” Penumbra explained. “Magica cut it off before she turned into a mermaid.”

Beakley let out a hum. “I see. I was wondering why you were missing a tail fin; it’s interesting that the transformation accommodates it that way. Well, I believe that your injury will be fully healed if you transform back, so you’re in no danger of bleeding out or anything.”

“But I still won’t have my leg.”

Beakley shook her head somberly. 

Della let out a tense breath. “Right. Well, I can’t hide from it forever. Might as well start getting used to it now.” She threw on a smile, and even someone like Penumbra had no trouble seeing the pain behind it. “And I mean, hey, it could be fun to try to build a wood leg, right? Like the tales of Swan John Silver! I’m sure by the time we face Magica, I’ll be in tip-top fighting shape again.”

Beakley and Penumbra exchanged a worried glance. Penumbra turned back to Della and cleared her throat. “I could, uh, help, if you want. To build it, and help you get used to it, you know.”

“I’d really appreciate that,” Della said tenderly. Then she put on a stonier face, and turned to Beakley. “Alright. Do it.”

Beakley nodded, moved behind her, wrapped her arms around her, and squeezed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try to keep hitting weekly updates as much as I can, but I'm struggling a bit with the finale, since I want to make sure it's good. So don't be too surprised if updates get spotty. We're approaching the end, though! I'm excited!


	22. Thrown to the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, abandoned, and retooled.

Violet sat silently at the table as everyone trickled into the room, taking their seats as they prepared to go over the plan. Della and Penny were the last ones to arrive, Della stumbling a bit on her new leg, which was nothing more than a tapered rod of wood affixed onto the stump on her calf. 

“Woah,” Dewey said when he saw her. “Mom, you look so cool!”

Della blinked at him, then let out a small chuckle as Penumbra helped her into her chair. “Thanks, sweetie.”

Violet waited until everyone was seated before clearing her throat. “So I’ve been doing some research, and I believe I have a way to counteract Magica’s shadow magic, at least somewhat. The basic idea is that the amount of effort it takes to control a shadow is significantly higher if that shadow is already being animated by a different shadow mage, since in that scenario, you have to overpower the pre-existing magic before asserting your own. 

“The unfortunate truth of the matter, however, is that Magica is a far more powerful sorceress than I, and we must assume her new patron is, similarly, far more powerful than Lena. In order to counteract this advantage, I did some research, and I have set up a runic circle in the cargo hold that should significantly amplify my abilities as long as I’m inside. It will send me into a deep meditative state and connect me with the shadow realm, allowing me to more easily wrangle everyone’s shadows. 

“That said, I don’t think it would be wise to spread myself very thin. I believe I can comfortably protect the shadows of everyone in this room, but controlling the shadows of, say, the entirety of Ms. Beakley’s forces would likely attenuate my magic to the point where Magica could easily overpower me.”

“I see,” Beakley said, bringing a finger up to her chin. “When I fought Magica back at Cape Suzette, she didn’t seem to be able to possess the shadows of any of my mermaids as long as they stayed in the water. Perhaps we can do something similar here; I’ll bring them along as support, but keep them out of the main fight.”

“Damn,” Lena muttered, running a hand through her hair. “I was hoping we’d be able to use the mermaid army to overwhelm her, but…”

“Don’t worry!” Della said. “We still got this! She can’t take all of us.”

“Actually, I’ll need some people to stay on the ship with me,” Violet said. “Magica isn’t stupid—she’ll realize what’s happening. If she kills me, or even just knocks me out of my trance, then I won’t be able to stay in control of your shadows, and we’ll quickly lose any numbers advantage we have. We need Webby and Lena to face Magica for sure, since they have magic of their own to combat hers with. Beakley should go with them, since she has the most experience fighting her previously. I’ll also be backing you up with the majority of my shadow constructs. Della, Penumbra, and the triplets will stay here and guard my body.”

Penumbra nodded in understanding. Della looked like she was about to protest, but then her gaze shifted down towards her feet, and she closed her beak. But Huey, Dewey, and Louie exchanged a glance before speaking up.

“Wait,” Huey said. “We’re not going to be helping?”

“You will be,” Violet explained gently. “Where you can help the most. You three aren’t combat trained; do you really think you could go up against Magica?”

“She’s right, guys,” Louie said. “We’d just get ourselves blown to bits.”

Dewey harrumphed, crossing his arms. “Fine.”

“Great,” Violet said. “Lastly, we need to consider where we want the fight to actually happen. We can’t fight her on the sea, because that would mean fighting her on our ship, and if it takes collateral damage from Magica’s spells—which it most certainly would—then it could disrupt my concentration without Magica even trying. But we also don’t want to fight her too close to any population centers, or she’ll be able to raise the shadows of the civilians to fight for her. So, ideally, we would intercept her right as she arrives at the next island she plans to target, and fight her on the shore. That also allows the mermaids to aid us safely from the ocean.”

“But how do we know where she’ll go next?” Webby asked. 

“I think I may have an idea,” Lena said. “There are a few islands around Cape Suzette, but only one of them has a Navy base. And something tells me Magica isn’t looking to start small and work her way up—she’ll go straight for the big fish first.”

Della’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean…?”

* * *

“Ah, Duckburg,” Magica cooed as the island appeared on the horizon. As she rocketed forward over the water with her magic, she could see the docks poking out from the beach, the Navy base towering over the nearby houses and shops—even Scrooge’s mansion, resting atop its little hill. It was a picturesque scene; all it was missing, really, was being  _ burnt to the ground. _

She indulged herself in a brief moment of evil chuckling before Bradford emerged from her shadow, sticking his diseased-looking vulture face over her shoulder. “And this is where that governmental center is, correct?”

“I thought you were able to watch us from the Shadow Realm,” Magica snapped. “Shouldn’t you know this already?”

Bradford rolled his eyes. “The Shadow Realm is but a mere afterimage of the corporeal world. I am, in fact, aware that there are several rather large structures on this island, but it can be hard to discern a precise purpose from the strips of floating consciousness and fragments of unrealized intention that make up my home dimension.”

“Well, it is,” Magica confirmed. “There’s a big Navy base smack-dab in the middle of it.”

“And we are charging straight in…  _ why?” _

“Because there’s no one in their pitiful little army that could stand a chance against me,” Magica said. “Not even  _ Scrooge _ was able to stop me when I still had all my powers locked away—I’m  _ leagues _ stronger now, even more so ever since I traded that little wretch of a niece in for you. We’ll be in and out in a flash, you’ll see; raze it all to smithereens and be on our merry way.”

“Very well,” Bradford said; and with that, he slipped back into the shadows under her cloak. 

After a good few more miles of flying, she was closing in on the shore, and was just about to make her way down to the docks when a cannonball whizzed past her face. 

“What?!” she cried, swiveling around to see a fleet of approaching pirate ships. “Who  _ dares _ challenge me?!”

Another cannonball came flying at her, and another and another. She cursed and threw out her hands, sending forth a barrage of energy beams. Each one found its mark against one of the cannonballs, resounding booms echoing out as they blew up harmlessly in the air.

“You can’t rule over us!” one of the pirates shouted up at her — one of those idiot beagles, it looked like. 

“Yeah!” came a call from another ship. “Who do you think you are?!”

“Someone’s not very popular in the polls,” Bradford mumbled over her shoulder.

“I don’t need those insolent, idiotic, insignificant ingrates to  _ like _ me,” Magica snarled, pumping magic into her palms. “I just need them to  _ fear _ me!”

She raised her arms high above her head, summoning a massive fireball at the tips of her fingers. With a roar, she hurled it down towards the front-most ship. 

It crashed against the deck with a concussive blast, and exploded in glorious waves of light and heat. Screams of pain and burning chunks of wood spewed out in all directions as the flames licked up the masts and bit down around the hull. 

It was a glorious sight, how the proud ship was reduced to ash and smoke and corpses in a second under her power, its burning remnants sizzling against the unforgiving waves. Magica turned her eyes to the next ship in the line, her hands crackling with energy. 

“Who do I think I am?!” she called down, beak splitting into a menacing grin. “I think I’m the most  _ powerful duck in the world! _ Now who wants the next one?”

* * *

“Oh damn,” Goldie said as one of the Beagle ships rapidly transformed from a quality vessel into a burning husk, courtesy of Magica’s huge-ass fireball. “I know I said my plan was foolproof earlier, but I’m having second thoughts about this.”

“Come on, Goldie!” Scrooge said from beside her on their row boat. “You may be a thief and a scoundrel, but you’re no quitter!”

“No, but I  _ am  _ a not-die-er,” she said with a frown. “And taking Magica on by ourselves would go against some closely-held ideals of mine that pertain to my continued existence.”

“Ack, it’s only one ship,” Scrooge said, waving her off. “Just a bluff! No way she can use such flashy spells over and over again without tiring herself out.”

“Well,” Goldie said with a exhale, gesturing to the fleet of pirate ships, “if it’s a bluff, it’s working.”

“Tactical retreat!” Black Heron called from a ways off, her crew scrambling to adjust the rigging. “Full sails, now!”

“GET US OUTTA HERE!” Ma Beagle screamed, a bit farther still. “YOU WANNA BECOME BARBECUE? GET GOING, YA NITWITS!”

“I see,” Scrooge said. “But still, we have to do  _ something. _ She’s about to attack Duckburg!”

“So? Sounds like a you problem, old man. I’m gonna bounce before Magica sees—” Goldie whirled as she caught motion out of the corner of her eye, and her jaw dropped as she stared at a ship coming straight towards them at alarming speeds, _flying_ through the air.

“What in the seven circles…?” Scrooge mumbled from behind her, putting his hand above his eyes to block out the sun as he gazed in awe at the airborne boat.

“I suppose I don’t have to leave  _ just _ yet,” Goldie mused, a smile curving up from the edge of her beak. Things had just gotten interesting.

* * *

Dewey hummed a little tune to himself as he leaned over the edge of the crow’s nest, screwing one eye closed as he scanned the horizon through his spyglass. They’d been sailing for a couple days now, so they  _ should _ be getting close to Duckburg… There! 

“Land ho!” Dewey shouted, his eyes falling on the tiny shape of the island in the distance. It was surreal, seeing his home so far away, so small. He’d figured, all the way back when they’d first decided to become pirates, that when he would finally come home, it would be to take a break after a lot of hard adventuring; not to seek out the most harrowing adventure he’d probably ever have. Like, taking down the Queen of the Pirates? That was loftier than even  _ his _ imagination.

Not that he was complaining. This was gonna be  _ awesome _ if they didn’t all die.

It wasn’t long before everyone else came running at his call, pouring out of cabins and up stairs. His brothers were at the front of the pack, looking eagerly over the railing at their hometown, and Mom was right behind them, moving as fast as she could on her peg leg. Penumbra, as usual, was sticking next to her in case she needed a shoulder to lean on, but she’d been doing better and better lately.

Lena and Webby came out of the captain’s quarters a few seconds later, talking to each other under their breaths with soft smiles and light giggles and other gross things. Beakley gave them an unsubtle stare as she came forward as well, which Webby didn’t notice and Lena ignored, and Violet brought up the rear, her beak buried in a book as she idly made her way over to the bow. 

And then a dot on the horizon lit up red, orange and yellow in a massive fireball.

Dewey gasped and brought the spyglass back up to his eye for a better look. It was hard to make out, as far away as they were, but it looked as though a ship just off the coast had been…  _ blown up. _

“Gimme that,” said a voice next to his ear, and he jumped as the spyglass was snatched out of his hands. He turned to see Lena standing there next to him all of a sudden, scowling as she stared through the instrument. “Shit.”

She handed the spyglass back to him and immediately disappeared into the shadows of the crow’s nest. Dewey hopped out onto the rigging and swung his way down to the deck, where Lena had already reappeared, talking frantically with Beakley and Violet.

“We’re too late,” she was saying. “Magica’s already there. That was probably her blowing up a Navy ship or something, but they won’t be able to keep her distracted for very long, and if she gets into the city, she’ll be able to raise all those shadows. It’ll be game over.”

Violet drew a hand down her face. “We… may have to give up on Duckburg. If we wait until she leaves to go to her next target and ambush her far enough away that she can’t access the shadows back in the city, we’d still stand a chance.”

“What about everyone living there, though?” Huey protested. “Uncle Donald is there!”

“I don’t know what we can do from all the way out here,” Della mumbled, looking away. “Lena said it—we’re too late.” 

“We can’t concede this opportunity,” Beakley said, shaking her head. “If she’s already fighting the Duckburg Navy, then now is the time we  _ must _ strike, while she’s distracted. We have to confront her before she has time to raise all the shadows of the citizens.”

“But how are we going to get over there?!” Louie cut in, voice more than a little bit panicked. 

“Leave that to me,” Beakley said.

Dewey watched as she leapt over the railing and into the ocean. The rest of the crew waited there with bated breath until she came up a minute later, a half-smirk on her face.

“Alright, everyone,” she instructed. “Hold onto something. Tightly.”

Dewey gulped and immediately wrapped his arms around the nearby railing, everyone else soon following suit (except for Lena, who slipped into the shadows). “What are you going to do?”

“Well, if my army isn’t going to be able to fight Magica directly anyway,” Beakley said, unslinging her trident and raising it high above her head, “then they may as well help us with this, I figure.”

With a roar, she brought her trident down, stabbing it hard into the wood of the deck. The ship creaked and groaned as the water under it began flowing rapidly forward, sending them speeding across the ocean—and then they started rising.

Dewey’s eyes widened as he peered over the edge of the railing and saw the water curving upwards, forming a sort of hill, with their ship balanced on its crest even as they continued to pick up speed. He could make out dark figures under the waves as a hundred mermaids fed the currents, propelling them along. He was about to make a comment on how crazy all of this was when the water suddenly surged up and forward, flinging the ship into the open air, and his words dropped deep into his stomach. 

The wind howled in his ears, tearing through his feathers even as they continued climbing up and up and up in the air, and suddenly, Duckburg wasn’t looking so small. He couldn’t help but break out into a giddy grin. “WOO-HOO!”

“ARE YOU SURE THIS WAS A GOOD IDEA?!” Louie shouted over the wind. “WE’RE GONNA CRASH!”

“WE’LL BE FINE!” Beakley assured, holding her trident in a death grip. “WE SHOULD LAND JUST OFF THE COAST!”

“NO, I’M WITH THE KID,” Penumbra called. They reached the crest of their trajectory just then, and Dewey’s insides took a bit of a dive as they started falling back down. “EVEN A WATER LANDING’S GONNA TOTALLY CAPSIZE US!”

“DONALD’S SHIPS CAN TAKE WAY MORE THAN THIS!” Della shouted cheerily. She was clearly enjoying the ride. “DON’T WORRY!”

Huey, who was wrapped around the steering wheel, holding on for dear life, turned to glare at their mom. “YOU KNOW, FOR SOME REASON, THAT DOESN’T MAKE ME—”

“LENA?” Webby cut in, causing them all to stop and turn. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

Dewey followed her gaze over to the ship’s prow. Lena was standing at the very front of the ship, walking carefully out onto the bowsprit; her hair and coat were flapping wildly in the wind, but somehow she was keeping her balance on the narrow piece of wood, staring forward at the rapidly-approaching island. 

“NOT MUCH OF A SURPRISE ATTACK IF WE DON’T ATTACK, RIGHT?” she called, crouching down once she reached the very tip of the bowsprit.

Della’s eyes widened. “LENA, NO!” She reached one arm out towards the girl, and then quickly pulled it back in to wrap around the railing. 

“ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Louie shouted.

But Webby just let out a laugh. “GET HER GOOD FOR ME, OKAY?”

Lena flashed a smirk over her shoulder, and as the roofs and trees of Duckburg surged into view from below, she drew her cutlass.

* * *

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!” Magica cackled, her hands smoking with energy as she blasted out at another one of the pirate ships from where she was hovering above the docks. The idiots! They thought they could gang up on  _ her?  _ What  _ scum! _

Slowly, the fleet turned away from her, no doubt in an attempt to escape back out to sea. She only laughed harder. “That’s right! Cower;  _ run! _ Know who your  _ true _ master is!”

She shot a bolt of crackling golden lightning out of her hand, and it struck the main mast of one of the Beagle ships, snapping it in two. Before she could go in for another shot, however, something in her periphery caught her attention. She snapped her head to the side, and she felt her teeth grit all on their own, eyes narrowing.

There were a lot of things wrong with the picture in front of her. A small naval cutter, flying a black flag, was soaring straight towards her at alarming speeds—much, much higher above sea level than any ship had any right to be. But perhaps the most shocking thing was the person crouching on the bowsprit, sword at the ready, eyes trained dead on her.

Magica scowled, a fire burning behind her eyes. “Lena,” she growled, and she could feel the very name filling her with contempt.

Seconds later, the ship was on her, and Lena jumped.


	23. Grand Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things fall apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding Sundays to my update schedule, so it'll be two chapters a week this week and next, and that'll be it for the story. Thanks to everyone who's stuck with me this far, and I hope you enjoy this four-part finale!

Lena leapt from the bowsprit.

Below her, the ship crashed hard into the water, sending up a mass of spray and sea foam, but she ignored it. Her attention was solely focused on Magica, hovering in front of her with a look that could kill. 

Lena soared through the air straight at her, channeling magic out of her bracelet and into her sword, and swung out with a grunt. A wave of magical energy billowed out from her blade, but Magica easily blocked it with a simple shield. Lena wasn’t done, though, and as she fell, she reached out and wrapped her free hand around Magica’s ankle.

“Gah!” Magica screeched as she was yanked down a few feet in the air by the extra weight. She kicked out, trying to shake Lena off, but she held fast. “Get off!”

Lena felt the crackle of magic above her, and managed to put up a shield of her own just in time as a blast of electricity engulfed her. Once it had all safely discharged, Lena dropped her shield to shoot a laser up at Magica, and took a boot hard to the side of her head for her troubles. The laser connected, though, bursting against Magica’s chest.

They both tumbled downwards to the docks below, Magica’s concentration broken, and Lena’s grip lost. Lena managed to land safely in the shadow of a larger fishing boat, splashing into it like it was a pool of water, and Magica caught herself right before she hit the ground, levitating a few feet above the pier. She dropped herself lightly down onto the dock, her boots tapping against the wood, and let out a sneer.

“You little  _ shitstain! _ How hard is it to get  _ rid _ of you? Come on out so I can finally obliterate you once and for—” 

She was cut off by the point of Webby’s trident, which was a hair’s breadth away from her neck, blocked by a last-minute shield. 

“Oh. It’s your  _ girlfriend,” _ Magica groaned.

Webby hissed and went in for another pass, but Magica thrust a hand forward, and Webby was sent flying backwards in an explosion of golden magic.

“Webby!” Lena shouted, jumping out of her shadow.

_ “There _ you are,” Magica said, turning around and shooting out a fireball in one smooth motion. 

For how quickly she had cast the spell, the fireball was alarmingly huge, its diameter easily longer than Lena was tall. She tried to slip back into the shadows, but the light from the fire had washed them away, and she was forced to jump long to the side. The explosion just missed her, the force sending her rolling away across the planks as flames engulfed the wood where she’d been standing. She managed to grab one of the posts at the edge of the pier, stopping herself before she fell into the ocean, but it was a near thing—one of her feet was hanging fully off the docks, the tip of her boot brushing against the waves.

Then a large figure burst out of the water directly below her and she nearly screamed, scrambling backwards, before she saw that it was Beakley. The Matriarch twisted as she soared through the air, deflecting one of Magica’s lasers with her tail before launching her trident at Magica’s feet. Magica was forced to jump back as the prongs buried themselves in the wood, and Beakley landed hands-first on the handle of her trident, yanking it out of the pier even as she flipped forward and slammed her tail down against one of Magica’s shields.

“Oh, the whole  _ family’s _ here,” Magica snarled. “Well isn’t that just  _ grand.” _

Lena climbed to her feet as Magica sent a pulse of magical energy outwards, flinging Beakley off of her. Beakley stuck the landing, and Lena was there to shield her from a follow-up lightning strike from Magica. By this point, Webby had recovered; she charged forward, striking a series of blows on Magica’s shields as she wove around a few offensive spells. A stray fireball set a nearby trading boat ablaze, and a cone of lightning dispersed into the air, but Webby managed to avoid it all. Lena ran forward as well, and was about to stab Magica from behind when her shadow rose up on its own accord—Lena’s sword went right through its chest, and it silently cackled before pushing her roughly away.

“Ha!” Magica shouted, finally forcing Webby’s retreat with another close-range explosion. Lena was just glad Webby hadn’t gotten hit by this one. “Have you forgotten, Lena? I have a new patron now! Stronger than you could ever  _ dream _ of being!” She crouched down and slammed her hands against the pier, sharp dark lines racing across the planks towards them.

“Jump!” Lena called, and she leapt into the air, twisting at the last second before spears of condensed shadows shot up from the wood; one pierced straight through her coat, leaving a tear in the fabric, but she managed to land without any scratches.

It had just been a distraction, though—in front of her, Magica had raised her hands to the heavens, her eyes clouded with inky black magic. “RISE!” she called.

Nothing happened.

“What?!” She stomped her foot, indignant. “I said  _ rise,  _ dammit, why aren’t you  _ listen—oomf!” _

She stumbled back as Webby’s trident collided hard with one of her shields, followed up by an uppercut from her tail that managed to slip past the magical barrier, slamming into the side of Magica’s ribcage. Magica’s shadow lunged forward to help out its master, but Lena quickly nailed it with a beam of magic from her cutlass, dissolving its form for a few precious seconds, which Webby took to retreat back to where Lena and Beakley were standing with a deft handspring. At the same time, before Magica could recover, Beakley made a sweeping gesture with her trident, and a pillar of water shot up from the ocean, slamming straight into Magica’s face and leaving her spluttering.

“ENOUGH!” Magica screamed, water dripping off her beak. She threw out both hands and summoned a shield in their direction, face filled with anger and frustration. “Bradford! Why can’t I animate their—”

She stopped cold as Webby and Beakley’s shadows started bubbling, rising up from the wood and forming into the silhouette of a small bird.

“Violet,” Lena said softly, allowing herself a tight smile.

The two shadow-Violets stepped in front of them, bringing their fists up in Violet’s go-to fighting stance, perfect mirror-images of each other.

“Oh, its the  _ you,” _ Magica said darkly. “Bradford! Their shadow mage is likely holed away on their ship. Go kill her.”

An elderly buzzard slipped out of the darkness of Magica’s coat. “Consider it done,” he said, before leaping into the shadow of a nearby boat and vanishing.

“Oh, no! Violet!” Webby cried.

“She’ll be fine,” Lena said, tightening her grip on her sword. “We’ve got bigger problems.”

“You sure do,” Magica hissed, dropping her shield in favor of channeling crackling electricity through her arms. “Now let’s see what you’re  _ really _ made of!”

“If you insist,” Lena said. 

As a massive wave of lightning arced towards them, she slipped her hand into Webby’s, and their bracelets began to glow.

* * *

A shock rushed through Huey’s body as the ship landed in the water off the docks of Duckburg, rocking erratically on the waves, but somehow staying intact. Huey let go of the steering wheel and fell flat on his back, clutching a hand over his pounding heart. “Let’s never do that again”

“Lena!” Webby shouted as soon as she recovered, launching herself over the railing. Beakley was hot on her tail, the two of them swimming off to go fight Magica.

“Cargo hold!” Violet ordered, rushing past him to the steps. “Now!”

“What? Uh, right,” Huey mumbled, picking himself up shakily. But Violet was already gone. He ran below deck, his brothers falling into step right behind him as they filed into the cargo hold.

“Holy crap,” Louie murmured as they stepped inside.

Huey gawked. All the boxes and barrels had been crammed against the walls, and in the open middle of the room, a large circle with an intricate, winding pattern had been drawn on the floor in…

Huey felt his stomach turn. “Is that  _ blood?” _

“Don’t worry about it,” Violet said from the middle of the circle. She had a lighter in hand, and was methodically lighting aflame a series of candles set at regular intervals around the perimeter.

“Okay, on one hand, this is sick,” Dewey said, “but on the other hand, where did you get all that blood?”

“Mostly fish,” Violet explained, lighting the fifth and final candle and capping the lighter, tossing it onto one of the nearby barrels. “Courtesy of Webby. Now be quiet, I need to focus.”

She settled down into a cross-legged stance in the middle of the circle, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. That just so happened to be when Della and Penny came into the hold, closing the door behind them. 

“Oh my god, is that blood?” Della asked.

“Quiet, Mom, she needs to focus,” Louie stage whispered.

Huey ignored them, eyes fixed on Violet. Slowly, wisps of black energy began to rise up around the edge of the circle. The magic pooled inwards, flowing around Violet and lifting her up into the air, and Violet started intensely mumbling under her breath in a language Huey didn’t recognize (which was mildly concerning, considering how many languages Huey knew). 

“Is this… normal?” Della asked hesitantly.

“It’s shadow magic,” Penumbra said gruffly. “So, no. But she knows what she’s doing.”

Violet hovered in the air as the shadows swirled around her, a vacant expression on her face. The shadows began wreathing around her torso and corkscrewing up and down her limbs; and then, without warning, five pitch-black tentacles of magic shot up from where the candles were positioned, the flames shifting from a warm orange to an eerie purple. Two of the tendrils wrapped around Violet’s ankles, two grabbed her wrists, and the final one latched around her beak. Once they were all attached, her eyes began to glow a brilliant white.

“Uhhhh,” Dewey said.

Louie frowned. “Welp, I’ll be seeing this in my nightmares.”

Violet uncrossed her legs and threw out her arms, yanking hard on the magical ropes attached to her, and the motion caused all of the shadows to explode upwards, turning the whole circle into a column of opaque pitch-black magic. The only indication that Violet was still in there was her eyes, two bright lights that pierced through the darkness like lighthouses in the night. 

A second later, their shadows started to move.

“Oh, this is freaky,” Louie said as his shadow peeled itself off the ground and started taking shape. Everyone else’s shadow was doing a similar thing, and Huey nervously looked behind him, just in time to see his own shadow morph into…

“Violet?” he asked tentatively.

His shadow, which looked like a featureless, smoky copy of Violet, waved at him. Huey narrowed his brow in confusion, gave a concerned half-smile, and raised his hand in something that might have been him waving back if you squinted.

“Is she okay in there?” Della asked her own shadow-Violet, nodding her head towards the raging pillar of darkness a few feet off.

Her shadow flashed a thumbs up and nodded. Then, three of the five Violets—Penny, Louie, and Dewey’s shadows—moved over to the porthole and leapt through.

“Where are they going?” Dewey asked.

“To help Lena and the others,” Penumbra said. “Remember the plan?”

“This is crazy,” Huey said, running a hand through his bangs nervously. “Like—magical lasers and fireballs is one thing, you know, but this? This breaks  _ so  _ many laws of physics!”

“Eh, rules are meant to be broken,” Louie said with a shrug. “Like Donald’s no desserts before dinner rule.”

“He’s got a point,” Dewey said.

“No, he doesn’t.” Della put her hands on her hips. “I’m adding that one to the list, by the way.”

Dewey blanched. “There’s a list?”

“Guys, we need to focus,” Huey said, shaking his hands nervously. “Violet said Magica’s probably going to try to get to Violet in order to stop our plan. We have to be ready!” 

“Ready for who?” Louie asked. “They’re out there fighting Magica, and her crew is either long gone or on our side now. Does she even have anyone left to come after us?”

As if on cue, the shadows in the corner of the cargo hold rippled, and before Huey knew what was happening, a dagger made from a material so deeply black that it looked like a hole in the world shot forward straight at him. He barely had time to let out a scream before Penumbra’s hand shot out and grabbed the knife by its hilt out of the air. A second later, it dissolved into black mist and dust.

At the far end of the room, opposite Violet’s circle, an old, wrinkled vulture was stepping out of the shadows—Magica’s new patron, Huey realized. He surveyed the room with a cold gaze, and Huey felt a shiver go down his spine as they met eyes.

“Looks like I’ll be murdering a surprising amount of children today,” he mused idly.

“You’re not laying a  _ finger _ on them,” Della hissed, her sword sliding out of its scabbard in a flash of steel. Next to her, Penny drew her cutlass as well; even Louie had taken out the pistol they’d smuggled away from Donald. Huey and Dewey each drew a knife that they’d taken to carrying around, though Huey didn’t really know the first thing about how to use it.

The vulture gave an annoyed grunt, and lunged forward.

* * *

Webby felt Lena’s hand slip into her own, and a familiar, comforting power surged through her, easily drowning out the sounds of Magica’s lightning attack as it discharged harmlessly into the air around them. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to the feeling of their magic; it was warm and cool at the same time, refreshing and invigorating. She felt like she could  _ feel _ Lena when they used it, and not just her hand—she could feel Lena’s breathes like they were her own, feel her in every bone in her body, present and whole.

Together, they rose up a few inches above the pier, and in sync threw their hands out towards Magica, firing a thick beam of blue energy her way. Magica snarled, summoning a shield with one hand to block the laser and casting a fireball at them with the other. A jet of water quickly shot up and extinguished it, though, as Beakley lunged forward on the offensive.

Magica’s shadow moved forward to engage with Beakley, but it was dogpiled by the two Violets, allowing Beakley to strike out with her trident. Magica hastily rolled out of the way, only for Webby and Lena to blast her with another laser. Magica hastily deflected the attack from her awkward position on the ground, and then with a deafening  _ crack,  _ she shot a bolt of lightning their way. 

Acting half on instinct and half on what she could feel from Lena, Webby reached out and grasped the spell in her magic, feeling the electricity thrum with life. With a twirl, she and Lena curved the lightning around behind them and back out again, striking right at Magica’s head. She leapt out of the way at the last minute, stumbling back to her feet, and the attack left a sizzling char mark behind on the wood.

Magica slammed a foot on the ground, and a series of shadows raced across the pier, throbbing and writhing with pent-up magic. A second later, they burst forth into three-dimensional space, the edges sharpening into jagged spikes as they raced towards Webby and Lena. 

_ “No,” _ Webby said, her voice echoing, and her eyes were suddenly burning white-hot, but without any pain. A blinding white light flashed out from them, eliminating all the shadows racing towards them. 

She tried not to let the thrill of casting a spell of her very own get the better of her, forcing herself to focus. Next to her, Lena had made a finger gun with her hand, and a blue ball of energy was slowly forming at the tips of her fingers. By the time the light from Webby’s spell had died down, it was about the size of a soccer ball; with a soft  _ pew, _ Lena’s hand kicked upwards and the ball shot forward, streaking out and blowing up at Magica’s feet. Magica managed to protect herself with a shield, but there was a sizable hole blown into the pier.

Beakley surged forward at the distraction, leaping over where Magica’s shadow was still fighting the two Violets, and thrust harshly down at Magica. She sidestepped the strike, then twirled to block another one of Lena’s explodey orbs, then used the momentum to aim a burst of magic right at Beakley’s chest.

At the last second, though, a third Violet-shaped shadow popped up from the darkness below and kicked out at Magica’s hand, sending her aim careening upwards. Beakley ducked low, and the blast went off over her head. Yet another shadow Violet came up from behind, delivering a straight punch to the square of Magica’s back, and she stumbled; Beakley wasted no time and immediately swung forward again with her trident, sticking Magica deep in the calf with the middle prong.

Beakley yanked her trident out, blood weeping from the wound. There was a brief half-second of silence as Magica stared down in disbelief, but it didn’t last long before she let out an animalistic roar, her eyes clouding gold, and a pulse of magic ripped out of her. Beakley let out a grunt as she was thrown off the docks and into the ocean, and all the Violets—Webby could count five in total—were similarly knocked away, a few of them even losing form from the blast. Webby worked with Lena to channel their magic into a barrier, and the wave washed over them harmlessly, but they were alone on the docks now, staring down an enraged Magica.

“That’s  _ it!” _ she screamed, electricity, fire, and shadows whipping around her in a magical wind. Her eyes were still shining an eerie gold, and she stalked forward on her injured leg like it was nothing. “This ends  _ now.” _

“Webby! Knives!” Lena shouted.

Webby quickly used her free hand to flip open the top of her satchel, and just like in the Crimson Riptide, all her various daggers unsheathed themselves and flew forward, ensnared in Lena’s telekinetic grip. Magica fired at the same time, and Webby threw up a shield against a stream of flames. Magica danced around the knives and blasted them with lightning again, which they swerved away from, and Lena shot off a laser, which glanced off one of Magica’s shields.

She struck out with her shadows next, which Webby flashed away with her light spell as Lena blocked a fireball. Webby shot off another beam—Magica leapt away from it, but as she did so, one of the knives slipped through her defenses and nicked her across the cheek, breaking her concentration enough for Lena to shoot off one of her magic bombs. It soared through the air and collided right onto Magica’s shoulder, exploding in a burst of energy that sent Magica stumbling back, yelling in pain.

“You in _ suff _ erable  _ brats!” _ she screamed, looking much worse for wear now, with large clumps of feathers on her shoulder, neck, and cheek seared off, a nasty burn blanketing the skin underneath. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to play with  _ knives?!” _

She threw out her arms, and the swarm of knives stopped dead. Webby could feel Lena straining to maintain control over them, and Webby even shot a laser to break Magica’s concentration, but the witch took it right in the ribs, not even flinching as it burned through her shirt and charred her skin. The next thing Webby knew, all her daggers were streaming straight for them. Lena yelled and clutched at her head, dazed from Magica overpowering her spell, and Webby quickly reached forward to conjure a shield—but before it could form, the closest of the blades streaked right next to her wrist, and she watched in horror as it cut straight through her bracelet, sending the strands fluttering to the ground. 

Like a snuffed out candle, the magical glow around them faded, and it was all Webby could do to grab Lena and pull her flat against the wood, bringing her armored forearms up in a guard as the knives whizzed over their heads.

_ “ _ Fuck,” she heard Lena say. “Fucking goddamn shit fuck.”

But Webby barely heard her, focused only on her broken friendship bracelet. It lay there, limp and lifeless on the old wood, and she felt a sense of dread begin to fester deep in her gut. This might be a bit more difficult than she thought.

* * *

“Son of a biscuit,” Ma Beagle muttered wearily to herself as she stalked across the deck of her flagship. What had she been thinking, going along with this hack of a plan? Sure, the promise of all that money was tempting, but she wasn’t about to  _ die _ for it.

Satisfied that her boys were doing a decent job steering them away from the fight, she barged into the captains’ quarters with a huff, angling for her whiskey cupboard. 

“Hey there, Mrs. Beagle. Nice place.”

“Gah!” Ma shouted, drawing her gun as she swiveled around. Much to her horror, she saw that none other than Goldie O’Gilt herself was sitting over on her bed, twirling a dagger idly between her fingers. “O’Gilt? Why are you here?!”

“Oh, well, I just want to borrow your ship,” Goldie said. “Take it for a little spin. You’re not using it, are you?”

“Like hell you can! There’s no way I’m letting you—” 

She stopped cold as the dagger that had been in Goldie’s fingers suddenly found itself embedded in the front of the whiskey cupboard, inches away from Ma’s face.

“You’re not using it, are you?” Goldie repeated, pulling another dagger from her belt to replace the old one.

Ma gulped. “No ma’am.”

Goldie smiled, sickly sweet. “Perfect.”


	24. Where You End and Where You Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fighting comes to an end, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha its surprise update day with a 5000 word chapter! Think this is the longest one in the entire fic so have fun :)

Lena’s head was pounding from Magica subjugating her telekinesis; having a spell overpowered by another magic user was a disorienting, painful, invasive, and all-around horrible experience. But she couldn’t dwell on it, especially not with Webby’s bracelet severed, and, consequently, her own no longer letting her draw any magic from it. She wasn’t going to sugarcoat it: this was bad. They-might-die-here bad.

“Awww, did I break your precious little arts and crafts project?” Magica sneered, her boots tapping sharply against the wood as she stalked towards them. Her various burns and cuts were a small consolation as she bore down on them. “Don’t worry; I plan to break  _ much _ more than just that.”

Lena rolled out of the way just as lightning cracked against the wood where her head had been. Before Magica could follow up, though, Beakley surged out of the water, apparently recovered from Magica’s earlier blast. Webby had gotten up, too, trident in hand, and she roared before lunging forward at Magica from the opposite angle.

Lena was just struggling to her feet when Magica twirled on the spot, sending a wave of fire out in a circle around her. Beakley backed off hastily, but Webby leapt through, swinging right at Magica’s neck with her trident.

And then Magica caught her in the chest with a bolt of lightning.

“WEBBY!” Lena screamed, raising her sword and sprinting forward. She fought down her panic as she saw Webby convulse and drop to the ground—Magica was building up her magic again, Lena could  _ sense _ it, Webby wouldn’t be able to take another hit and Lena wasn’t going to make it in time—

She let out a relieved breath as the Violets reformed from in between the cracks in the boards, two of them rising to stand protectively over Webby and the other three surrounding Magica. They struck out, punching and jabbing, and Magica was forced onto the defensive, putting up shields against their assault. That was when Beakley reappeared as well, landing a heavy blow that actually managed to shatter one of Magica’s shields, opening her up to a harsh left hook from one of the Violets. Magica let out a grunt and stumbled backwards, clutching a hand to the side of her jaw.

“She’s getting weaker! Keep at it!” Lena called as she reached the scene. She paused as she reached Webby, looking down at her; she seemed more or less okay, though, and was struggling back up onto her arms, so Lena pressed onwards. 

The five Violets had managed to combine themselves into one giant mega-Violet, which was looming at about twice Magica’s height and trying her best to punch her straight off the pier. Magica wasn’t having it, though, keeping both her and Beakley at bay with a series of explosive spells. Lena slid under a blast of magic as she approached and swept out at Magica’s boots with her blade. Magica hopped over the attack, retaliated with a fireball that Lena barely dodged, and then was promptly slapped out of the air by Violet, sending her rolling across the docks. Scratched and bruised from the hit, Magica spat up a glob of blood, barely recovering in time to shield against another one of Beakley’s strikes.

But just as it was looking like she might be overwhelmed, a concentrated close-range blast of magic erupted right in Beakley’s face. Magica let out a triumphant “HA!” as Beakley was sent flying through the air like a ragdoll, crashing clean through the hull of a nearby boat.

“Granny!” Webby shouted. Lena was glad to see she was back on her feet—back on her fins?—but with their magic gone and Beakley now out of commission for who knew how long, things were looking bleak.

“Getting  _ weaker? _ Pah!” Magica dodged another punch from the giant shadow-Violet and rolled behind her, sending a powerful two-handed laser straight through her middle. Violet’s form wobbled, struggling to hold on, but before too long she collapsed back into the five regular-sized shadow Violets, who rained down onto the deck. Magica laughed. “The only  _ weaklings _ around here are  _ you!” _

She raised her hands above her head, brightly-flickering magic dancing across her fingertips, and her eyes clouded gold.

“Shit!” Lena shouted, scooping Webby up in her arms stumbling over herself as she peeled down the pier away from Magica.

A second later, a massive orb of golden energy exploded out from where Magica was standing. Lena clutched Webby tightly to her chest and leapt forward for all she was worth, the magic licking at the soles of her boots as they tumbled just barely out of its grasp.

“Okay, so—” Webby paused to catch her breath, rolling off of Lena. “Do we have a plan?”

“Um, give me a few—aah!”

Lena yelped as something wrapped around her middle, pinning her arms to her side and lifting her up into the air. She looked down to see a strand of shadow magic encircling her torso, the other end running down to the wood and all the way over to Magica, connecting to her shadow. Lena glanced quickly to the side, and saw that Webby was similarly captured, suspended in the air next to her. There was no trace of any of the Violets; they must’ve been obliterated in the blast, and who knew how long it would take for them to reform from that.

“Show’s over,” said Magica, approaching with a sinister expression. She looked like shit: she was walking with a slight limp, the stab wound on her calf bleeding again from her exertion, and the char marks and scratches they’d managed to give her all across her body left her shedding bloody feathers to the ground as she walked. She slowly raised one hand up in front of them, a gold light gathering around it, steadily growing in intensity. “I hope you’re happy, Lena.”

“Elated,” Lena choked out.

“Hey, uh, maybe we can talk about this!” Webby said quickly. “Magica, killing us may feel cathartic in the  _ moment, _ but will world domination  _ really _ fill that hole in your heart? Maybe you could try, I don’t know, picking up painting? Whittling?”

Magica sneered. “The only thing  _ I’m _ going to whittle is your  _ bones _ into  _ dust!” _

Webby nodded. “Right, but wouldn’t whittling our bones into a nice sculpture of a tree be a lot more creatively satisfying?” 

Magica raised an eyebrow at her, then turned to Lena. “What’s with her?”

“No, no, I think she’s got a point,” Lena said, trying not to stare too obviously at the magic that Magica had primed at her fingertips. “I think we need to—”

And then a cannonball exploded a few feet behind where Magica was standing, blasting the pier to smithereens and sending her tumbling, screaming, into the water. A second later, there was a massive crash from behind them, and Lena swiveled around to see what looked like the Beagle Boys’ flagship galleon colliding head-long into the collection of moored ships on the docks, the vessels crumpling into each other in a mess of broken timber. 

“Thanks for keeping her busy, lassies!” called Scrooge McDuck, bouncing off of the prow of the ship into the wreckage below, and then over to the docks. He picked up a long piece of snapped-off wood on his way, twirling it in his hands like it was a rapier. “I’ve got a  _ score _ to settle.”

* * *

Louie watched in frozen horror as the vulture fought with Penny and his Mom. He struck out with clinical lethality, his dark blade spearing straight towards throats and hearts and whatever else he could target. Della and Penumbra were no pushovers, though; they covered each other’s backs and attacked whenever the other set up an opportunity, and even where they failed, the two shadow-Violets were there to pick up the slack, interjecting themselves into the fight at just the right moments to interrupt the vulture’s flow.

That is, until one of them tried to take a hit for Della, who couldn’t move on her peg leg fast enough to evade a strike. The vulture’s blade stopped in the shadow’s chest, but then, as he moved to pull it out, the shadow lost its Violet-ness and fell apart into mist, which seemed to be absorbed into the sword, turning it, somehow, even darker than before. The other Violet stepped away, eyeing the weapon warily.

“Well that’s not good,” Dewey observed.

“We’ve gotta do something!” Huey said. 

“Maybe—” Louie’s breathes were coming fast and heavy, the pistol in his hands almost slipping out of his grip from the sweat. He wanted to help Mom, but the fight was moving too quickly for him to get a good shot. Also, he had never fired a gun before, so factoring his aim into account, a ‘good shot’ was gonna be really hard to come by at this rate. “Maybe something in the cargo can help?”

“Yeah! Yeah, maybe!” Huey said, his eyes whipping around the room. Finally, they settled on Violet’s discarded lighter, set on one of the boxes. “Oh! We have oil in here, right? For the lanterns?”

“I think so?” Dewey said. “No idea where though.”

“Then start  _ looking,” _ Louie said, flipping open the top of a nearby barrel. He wasn’t quite sure what Huey’s plan was, but he’d take anything at this point. Besides, he trusted his brother.

They rummaged through barrel after crate after barrel, and eventually Huey pushed a box full of rope and paper and spare lumber towards the center of the room, as close as he dared to get to the melee on the other side of the hold. “Throw anything flammable in here!” he instructed. “We want a controlled burn!”

“Got it,” Louie said. He spared a glance at the fight just in time to see the other shadow-Violet getting sucked into the vulture’s sword. He grimaced, but pushed it out of his mind and kept searching, tossing some moldy pamphlets on ship maintenance into the crate.

“Got it!” Dewey called a minute later, holding a couple of oil cans up in the air in triumph. 

He was almost drowned out, however, by a scream coming from the other side of the room, followed closely by Della’s distressed call of “Penny!”

Louie looked over and saw Penumbra lying on the ground, breathing labored breaths as she clutched at a stab wound in her side.

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” Louie said. “We gotta go!” 

“What even is the plan here?!” Dewey called, distressed.

“You go help Penny,” Huey said, snatching the oil out of his hands and dumping it out into the crate. “Louie, watch the fight and tell me when the vulture goes into a shadow. And have your gun ready!”

“W-What if he doesn’t go into a shadow?” Louie asked as Dewey ran off and dragged Penny away from where Della and the vulture were trading blows. 

“Just tell me if he does!” Huey stressed.

Louie nodded, and focused on the fight. If the vulture was aware of what they were doing, he didn’t seem to care, his attention solely focused on sparring with Della. It wasn’t looking good; Della was heavily on the defensive, just barely managing to keep herself from getting gored by the vulture’s pitch-black sword as it whizzed through the air. She was moving impressively on her peg leg, but even Louie could tell it was affecting her, making her stance less stable and compromising her balance. 

With a lucky parry, a hole finally appeared in the vulture’s defense, and Della seized the moment, lunging forward with a slash at his arm. But just before the blade connected, the vulture slipped into the shadows, and Della overcommitted onto her bad leg, wobbling as her sword cut through thin air.

“NOW!” Louie shouted, gripping his pistol tight in both hands and readying it. 

From behind, he heard the click of the lighter, and then a  _ fwooom _ of rising flame, followed by Huey’s startled cry as he almost caught his fingers in the blast. The oil-doused wood and fiber practically exploded in a plume of light and heat which washed out across the hold, and, most importantly, drove away the shadows. The vulture, who had been hiding in the shade of one of the nearby crates, was expelled back onto the floor as the shadow vanished out from under him. He groaned, reflexively pulling a hand up to his head, and Louie aimed his gun and shot.

And missed.

The bullet whizzed right over the vulture’s shoulder, waking him from his stupor; he leapt up with a growl, lunging straight at Louie. Louie screamed and backpedaled, falling down in the process, but before the vulture’s sword could come down on his head, Della jumped in and knocked it away with her own blade, the weapon dissipating into dust as soon as it lost contact with the vulture’s hand.

Louie threw the empty gun aside—no time to reload—and drew his dagger, leaping forward with a warcry. The vulture seemed to be trying to manifest another weapon, but the light from the bonfire was too bright for him to gather dense enough shadows. As Louie and Della converged on him, he swept out with a leg and knocked Della off balance, rolling away from Louie and coming up behind Della. Before Louie knew what was happening, the vulture had wrestled her into a choke hold.

“Mom!” Dewey shouted in alarm from the other end of the room, where he was cleaning Penumbra’s wound.

Louie froze. “No! Don’t hurt her!” he cried. 

Della dropped her sword to bring both hands up to her neck, desperately prying at the vulture’s arms. She tried to say something, or maybe just gasp in pain, but the sounds couldn’t get out.

The vulture leveled a calculating gaze on Louie. “A bit too late for that, I’m afraid,” he said, and his grip around Della’s throat tightened.

* * *

As soon as the cannonball hit and Magica dropped into the water, Webby threw open her jaw and wrapped her teeth around the shadow magic that was binding her. After a few seconds of tugging, she managed to bite right through it, and the tendril of magic dissolved. She fell onto the deck, and then hopped over to Lena, easily slashing through her bonds and catching her as she dropped. 

“Ah—thanks,” Lena said absently, her eyes glued to the man who’d jumped off the crashing boat.

Webby recognized him as Scrooge McDuck from back when they’d run into each other in the forest at Cape Suzette; he walked over to the newly-formed hole in the pier and looked down into the water with a frown.

“Something wrong?”

Webby yelped and whipped around at the new voice; an older duck with long golden-yellow hair had come up behind them from seemingly nowhere. Webby was  _ very _ used to getting snuck up thanks to her ambush training, so anyone who could do so without her noticing instantly set off warning bells in her mind.

“She’s not resurfacing,” Scrooge mumbled to the woman, seemingly unconcerned with her sudden appearance.

“Shit, that’s Goldie O’Gilt!” Lena hissed, taking a step back. “She was the Queen of Pirates before Magica was! I thought she was retired…”

Webby’s eyes bugged out. “She was  _ WHAT?!” _

Goldie shot a quick glance her way. “What’s with the children?” she asked Scrooge.

Scrooge paused, glanced back at them, and shrugged. “You know, I’m not entirely sure myself,” he said. “But before we get to that, we need to figure out where Magica’s hiding. She might be prepping for a sneak attack under there, and as long as we don’t know where she is, we’re at a disadvantage.”

Webby perked up. “Oh! I can help with that! Gimme one sec.”

She leapt from the pier into the ocean, feeling the familiar lump in her throat as she switched over to her gills. She closed her eyes and focused, feeling the water wash over her scales and glide through her feathers. She sensed every ripple around her, every shifting current, every sway of seaweed, and— _ there. _ A ways away, a larger figure was skirting around the edge of the pier, moving in that awkward way that only land-dwellers moved under the water. 

Got her.

Webby reached out, grasped the heart of the water in her claws, let out a slow exhale, and then spun onto her back with a quick lash of her tail, thrusting her hands up towards the sky. Off to the side, the current she was manipulating followed that same path, sweeping the larger body up in its grasp and tossing it out of the water.

Once the deed was done, Webby quickly resurfaced, just in time to see a screaming Magica fly up over the docks, arcing right towards the assembled group on the pier. She quickly composed herself, and managed to point one glowing hand down at them in preparation to cast a spell, but Webby quickly unslung her trident and threw it as hard as she could at Magica. 

It caught Magica’s forearm right between two of the prongs—it didn’t draw any blood, but the sheer momentum of the heavy weapon was enough to snap Magica’s arm backwards at an angle that arms really shouldn’t bend, and Magica let out a cry of pain, her spell misfiring in a brilliant golden explosion off to the side as she fell hard to the pier.

She heaved in pain, pulling herself shakily up to her knees, and brought her other arm up in place of the one Webby had broken. It was futile, however, as Goldie’s boot crashed down on her wrist, pinning it to the wood with a crunch and squashing whatever spell she’d been trying to cast. Magica twisted her neck up with a glare and opened her beak—whether to say an incantation or just to yell at them Webby couldn’t say, but before she could get out more than a syllable, Lena’s blade was there, the tip of it poking at the skin of Magica’s throat.

Magica craned her head back, her expression aflame with anger. “Well? Do it, Lena! You don’t have the guts!”

Lena narrowed her eyes. “Don’t I?”

Before Lena could do anything, however, Scrooge put a hand on her wrist, steadying her blade. “Woah there, lass. Ya don’t want that one on your conscience.”

“Yeah, let me do it,” Goldie said, drawing a pistol from her belt and leveling it at Magica’s temple. “I already burnt my golden ticket a long time ago.”

Scrooge sighed.  _ “No, _ I’m saying that we need to bring her in. There’s a  _ process  _ we have to follow here. I know you don’t care much for the law, Goldie, but I have to adhere to certain regulations.”

“Every second she’s alive, she’s a threat,” Lena said, eyes narrowing. “We need to kill her now.”

“I’m with the kid,” Goldie said.

The arguing continued as Webby pulled herself out of the ocean and back onto the pier. She cast a worried glance at Magica; her hand was still trapped beneath Goldie’s boot, and her other arm hung limply at her side, so it didn’t look like she’d be able to cast any of her normal spells anytime soon. But still, Webby didn’t like this. She was being too quiet.

And then she caught sight of Magica’s shadow, slowly spilling outwards in a perfect circle and beginning to bubble ominously.

“GET AWAY!” Webby shouted.

Lena was the first to move, immediately turning and sprinting down the pier. Scrooge hesitated for a split second before he looked down and noticed her shadow as well; when he did, he quickly grabbed Goldie’s arm and pulled her along with him. Her gun went off as she was yanked away, the bullet going wide.

“Dammit, Scroogie, I almost had her!” Goldie yelled as shadows roared to life behind her. “Now you’ve let her go and do… uh…” She blinked. “Actually, what the  _ hell _ did she do?”

As the shadows cleared, Webby saw what looked like a massive hole in the fabric of the world start to form in the air above Magica. It let out a ghastly groaning noise as it expanded, a fierce, cold wind rushing into it like a vacuum, sucking up stray dust and splinters of wood. And through it, Webby could see nothing but a cold, unforgiving black.

She heard a gulp from next to her, and turned to see that Lena was looking pale as a sheet. Lena mumbled something under her breath as she looked on in terror; her voice was weak, hollow, and strained, but Webby managed to make out the words. 

“The Shadow Realm,” Lena whispered.

* * *

Louie brandished his dagger and stepped forward. “Let her go  _ right now _ or you’ll regret it.”

“Oh?” The vulture raised an eyebrow. “Or you’ll do what?”

The vulture was buying time—probably waiting until Della passed out, so he didn’t have to worry about fighting them all at the same time. Louie’s eyes flicked around the room. The fire was still raging, but who knows how long it’d last; as soon as it dimmed enough for the vulture to create another weapon, it was over. Dewey was still busy treating Penumbra’s wounds, and Huey was… oh. Huey was sneaking around behind the vulture. Good on Huey.

Louie waited a few more precious seconds for Huey to get into position, and then lunged forward with a war cry. The vulture smirked, and at the last minute, he shoved Della straight into the path of Louie’s dagger. His eyes widened—he brought his arm down as fast as he could, but couldn’t stop his momentum, and ended up crashing into both of them head-on. 

He let out a wail as he felt his knife cut into his thigh; he hadn’t moved it carefully enough. At least he hadn’t stabbed his mom in the chest, he figured, but it was hard to think rationally through the pain.

It must have been much worse for the vulture, though, who ended up falling backwards straight onto the point of Huey’s extended dagger. He let out a cry as the steel slid into his back, and his grip on Della went slack. She tumbled to the ground, gasping for air with big, greedy gulps.

“Louie!” she cried, once she had recovered enough to talk. “Your leg! Are you okay?”

“No,” he hissed out, taking one look at the gash on his thigh and then screwing his eyes closed. “I slashed myself in my fucking thigh.” 

“Language,” Della said reflexively, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Oh, god, this fucking hurt. And it wasn’t even that deep! Now he knew how Lena must have felt when Webby had bitten her way back when. Or how Beakley must have felt when Lena had stabbed her during that Riptide thingy that Webby had gushed about in great detail. Or how Penumbra must be feeling right now. Or how the  _ vulture _ must be feeling right now.

God, a lot of people got stabbed around here, huh?

Speaking of the vulture, he was spluttering now, hacking up shadows onto the floor just like Lena had a tendency to do whenever she got injured. He struggled back to his knees, reached over his shoulder, and yanked Huey’s dagger out of his back, snarling.

“Watch out!” Louie called. 

Della’s eyes widened. She scrambled back and swiveled around, but with her sword lying out of reach, she was wholly unprepared for the dagger coming straight at her.

Until, inexplicably, the vulture stopped moving.

He froze there, the knife in his hand inches away from Della’s heart, expression contorted with rage. And then, he dissolved on the spot, and Della just barely managed to snatch the dagger out of the air before it fell into her chest.

“…What?” Huey asked.

“Magica broke her contract.”

They all turned to see Violet stepping out of her magic circle; all of the shadows were gone, and all of the candles were out, burnt down to small lumps of wax. Violet herself looked perfectly normal, as if she’d just woken up from a refreshing nap, and not some horror-inducing ancient shadow ritual.

“What does that mean?” Della asked.

“She broke her bond with her shadow spirit; that’s why he dissolved,” Violet explained. “I felt it. She had a presence on the Veil—a strong one. So did Bradford, that vulture you were fighting. But then, suddenly, both those presences vanished. I don’t know why, but she gave up her shadow magic for some reason.”

“That’s good though,” Louie said. “Right?”

“It… is,” Violet said tentatively. “I’m just wondering why she would do that. It isn’t like her to surrender. We should go meet up with Lena and the others.”

“What about Penny?” Della asked.

“Alive,” Penumbra croaked from the corner.

“Penny!” Della exclaimed, a smile gracing her face. “You’re okay!”

“Thank your kid,” Penumbra said, sitting up shakily, Dewey helping her gently. “I’m gonna stay here, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Della said. “C’mon, kids. Let’s go make sure everyone else is okay.”

* * *

As the portal to the Shadow Realm grew, so did whatever force was pulling them all in, and Webby was forced to dig her claws into the wood of the pier to stop it from dragging her into the air. Everyone else was doing something similar: Lena had her sword wedged between two planks, Scrooge had wrapped his arms around one of the pier’s support poles, and Goldie had anchored herself with a pair of daggers. The only one who wasn’t holding onto anything was Magica, who was laughing maniacally to herself as she was slowly drawn towards the portal.

“What did you do?” Scrooge called. “What is that thing?”

“You should’ve killed me when you still had the chance, fools!” Magica sneered. She wasn’t nearly as intimidating now, crumpled and bleeding in a heap on the floor like she was, but there was something decidedly unhinged in her eyes that made Webby’s stomach clench. “I severed my bond with the shadow monster, and as he crossed back through the Veil, I tore a big,  _ fat _ hole in it. None of you are going to make it out of this alive!”

“Are you  _ insane?!” _ Lena shouted. “Ugh, stupid question—of  _ course _ you’re insane. But did it ever occur to you that this portal’s going to consume this entire  _ dimension  _ if you don’t close it?”

“It’s going to  _ what?!”  _ Goldie called out, eyes wide.

“HA!” Magica threw back her head in a single, harsh laugh. “What do I care? Let it all die! If I can’t  _ rule _ the world, I may as well  _ end _ it, right? Who else could do that except for the most  _ powerful duck in the world?!” _

She lifted her good arm to the heavens as she said it, her hand limply flailing on its broken wrist, and stood up with shaky legs, her cloak billowing behind her as it was pulled inwards by the portal. And then, laughing in that horrible, piercing way of hers, Magica’s boots lost contact with the pier, and she rose into the air, vanishing into the pitch blackness of the portal as she was sucked inside.

“Well shit,” Goldie mumbled.

“What do we do?” Webby called out. 

“We need to close that portal,” Scrooge said. 

“Okay, so how do we do that?” Webby asked.

“Well.” Scrooge let out a heavy breath. “You got me there.”

Goldie rolled her eyes. “Oh for the love of—are you good for  _ anything, _ old man?”

“Oh,  _ don’t _ you start with me, Goldie, you—”

“I can close it,” Lena said.

Everyone shut up.

“What do I need to do?” Webby asked, turning a determined expression on Lena.

“You don’t need to do anything,” Lena instructed. “Just stay where you are.”

“Wait, how can  _ you _ close the portal?” Goldie asked.

“I’m a shadow spirit too,” Lena said. “I’m more in tune with the Veil than any of you. If I can get in there, I can—”

“Wait, ‘get in there?’ What does that mean?” Webby asked.

Lena paused, looking away. “I can only close it using my natural magic. For that, I need to be on the other side.”

Webby’s eyes widened. “But… you’ll be able to get out again, right?”

Lena didn’t say anything.

“Violet can summon you again, right?” Webby could hear the strain entering her voice, and knew it wasn’t from fighting the ever-increasing pull of the portal. “Right? Lena—”

“Maybe,” she interrupted. “It’s—it’s a maybe.”

“No, wait, we can think of another way!” Webby said frantically. She wasn’t about to take a  _ maybe _ here, this was—this was  _ Lena! _ Webby could feel the tears licking at the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill over. “You don’t have to do this!”

“But you  _ could,” _ Goldie said. Webby shot her a hurt look, but she just shrugged. “Look, all I’m saying is that there’s a portal threatening to consume our entire dimension, and this girl’s got a way to stop it. I’m all for… whatever you two have got going on, but I also enjoy the world existing, you know?”

“She’s right,” Scrooge said somberly. “Lena, was it? Do whatever you have to do. And… thank you.”

Lena nodded.

“What? No!” Webby was practically shouting now, wishing more than anything she could take out one of her claws to reach out and grab Lena, to hold her close and keep her safe. “But, but Lena, what about—”

“It’s okay,” Lena said, turning a gentle, disarming smile towards Webby. “It’s not like I’ll starve over there or anything—it’s my home, remember?”

Webby felt the feathers on her cheeks growing wet, sticking to her skin. “Is it?”

And just like that, Lena’s smile broke, shattering into something much more raw, and regretful, and terrified. “I have to do this,” she said, softly, and then she ripped her gaze away as she let go of her sword.

“LENA!” Webby cried.

She was helpless to watch as Lena tumbled through the air towards the portal. She didn't go straight through, however; instead, she reached out her arms and grabbed onto the edges of the rift, hanging on as the rest of her body was pulled inside. Her eyes clouded over black as she crossed the threshold, and her whole body shifted into something more formless, black smoke rolling off her clothes and feathers in thick waves. 

Lena let out a grunt as she started straining her muscles, and, slowly, began pulling the edges of the portal inwards. As the portal shrank in size, Webby could feel the force pulling on her slowly ebb. 

“It’s working!” Scrooge shouted. “Keep it up, lass!”

But then a boot shot out of the blackness behind Lena and slammed against her left arm; Lena let out a gasp of pain and lost her grip, leaving her dangling only by one hand, the back half of her body completely out of sight in the darkness.

_ “Not so fast, Lena!” _ came a haunting voice from the other side of the portal.  _ “You’ve ruined too much already—I’m  _ not _ letting you ruin this!” _

“Magica!” Goldie said, eyes narrowing. “She’s still in there! We have to—”

“LENAAAAA!” Webby shouted, wrenching her claws from the wood and launching herself right at the portal. She thrust her arms out in front of her, her sharp scales gleaming in the waning sunlight.

“Webby?” Lena called in disbelief. “What are you doing?! I told you to—ung!” She let out a grunt as Magica’s boot swung out again and collided with the side of her stomach, but she managed to hold on.

“Just focus on closing the portal!” Webby said. “I’ll take care of  _ her.” _

Just as she got the words out, she flew past Lena and collided forcefully with another body. It was too dark to see anything, the portal behind them only giving out a faint glow, but without hesitation, she primed her natural neurotoxins and stabbed as many talons as she could into whatever flesh she could find. A second later, the body below her went limp.

Behind her, Lena let out a scream of exertion. Webby threw a glance over her shoulder to see Lena reach her left hand back out to grab the other side of the portal, and then, with one massive heave, she yanked it closed, plunging them into the oppressive, smothering darkness of the Shadow Realm. 


	25. Return to the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of everything, hold on to anything.

“Scrooge?” Della called, running down the pier. “Is that you?!”

The docks were a mess: there were holes in the wood everywhere, and several of the boardwalks and boats were on fire or collapsed, not to mention the giant galleon that had crashed not too far from here. But at the heart of all the damage was none other than Scrooge McDuck, standing with… Goldie O’Gilt?

Whatever. One problem at a time.

“Della?” Scrooge exclaimed. “Oh, bless me bagpipes, you’re okay! I’ve been worried  _ sick _ about you!”

“You too!” Della said, running up and giving him a quick hug.

“Where’s Magica?” Huey asked as the kids caught up behind her.

Scrooge frowned. “She, uh…”

“She opened a portal to the Shadow Dimension and got sucked inside,” Goldie said matter-of-factly.

Louie, leaning on Dewey to compensate for his injured leg, looked alarmed. “Uh, do we need to worry about that?”

“All taken care of, as far as I can tell,” Scrooge said. “But, um… that girl with the dyed hair and the little mermaid lass… did you know them?”

“Webby and Lena?” Dewey asked.

Violet stepped forward. “Where are they? Did something happen?”

“They, uh…” Scrooge frowned. “How to put it…”

“They go sucked into the portal too,” Goldie said. “They’re the only reason it isn’t eating us all up right now. Some real guts in those two.”

Della felt a weight press down on her chest. “You mean—”

“NO!” Violet shouted. Della was taken aback by the outburst; she’d never seen the girl so much as raise her voice, much less… _this._ She looked about ready to pin Scrooge to the ground and shake him until Lena and Webby reappeared. “No, we—we have to get them back!”

Scrooge rubbed his chin, taking Violet’s anger in stride. “The mermaid mentioned that someone named ‘Violet’ might be able to summon Lena back to this realm? That’s the only lead I have.”

_ “I’m _ Violet,” Violet hissed, unimpressed.

Scrooge nodded, beak pulled tight. “…I see.”

“C…” Dewey gulped. “Can you do that? Summon her?”

“The amount of magic it takes to pierce the Veil is astronomical,” Violet said, shaking her head and holding herself as she stared at a nearby sword that was wedged between two of the pier’s planks. “Magica’s the only sorceress who’s been able to do it in hundreds of years. I, on the other hand, have  _ no _ magical ability.” 

“Hey!” Huey said, coming in and wrapping her in a hug. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find a way to get them back. We will.”

Dewey and Louie joined the hug, all three of them pulling together tight around the girl. Della shot Scrooge a look; he returned a solemn one, before taking off his hand and staring at a spot in the air a few feet away.

“Huey’s right,” Louie said, his voice muffled by the bodies he was speaking into. “We’ve got time, and Scrooge knows a lot of powerful people. We’ll find a way.”

“She used to have nightmares about going back there,” Violet mumbled. “I just—she’s my sister. Imagine if one of you had gotten stuck over there.”

And that’s all it took for Della to drop into the hug, too. “It’ll be okay,” she whispered soothingly, arms wrapping around the kids. “They’ll be okay.”

Over their heads, she shot one final, worried look at Scrooge, who just sighed and averted his gaze.

* * *

The Shadow Realm, Lena figured, could be considered a form of Hell. 

Sure, it didn’t have all the fire and brimstone, but she didn’t really think that mattered too much. She would’ve killed for some fire when she was younger—it would’ve given her something to look at. It would’ve given her light. She could’ve watched it dance and burn and flicker. She would’ve loved it.

She knew, because when she had first seen fire—a small little campfire Magica had made during their trek down Mount Vesuvius—she had been enraptured. At the time, she’d still been trying to adjust to the very sensation of being alive, staring at the rocks and tasting the air. But the fire… the fire had been something else. She had never known what it meant to be warm before then.

And now, as she found herself back in her birth dimension, surrounded by nothing but darkness and whispers, she found that she had forgotten what it meant to be cold. 

“Lena?”

Webby. Webby’s voice, that was Webby’s voice. Webby was here. She was okay, she was with her. Lena exhaled, and the darkness seemed a little less dark.

“Lena, are you there?”

“I’m here,” Lena called back. “I’m here.”

“Magica’s here too,” Webby said. “Um—somewhere. I think I knocked her out with my toxins, but you know her. Stubborn.” 

Lena let out a sharp laugh. “Yeah. She is.”

Webby cleared her throat. “Hey, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have a light, would you? It’s… really dark.”

“That’s not really how things work in here,” Lena said. “Light doesn’t even exist in this dimension; there’s a different way to see. Hold on, I might be able to show you. Take my hand.”

“Okay.” A pause. “Where is it?”

“Come towards me?” Lena stretched her hand out towards Webby’s voice.

“Right.” There was some shuffling, and then Lena’s hand bumped into something. “Ow! My eye!”

“Uh—sorry.”

They fumbled around a bit, but eventually found each other’s fingers, wrapping them together. “Alright. Hopefully this works…” 

Lena released a cold breath, letting her physical form deteriorate even further as her shadows flowed out of her, combing though the void around them. She searched the darkness, picking up strips of memories from the lost souls that lay shredded within the shadows, and, slowly but surely, an image of the docks began to form around them, hazy and discolored. The pier below them was misty and seemed to shift beneath their feet, and all the surrounding boats shifted under the scrutiny of Lena’s gaze, changing position, build, and even time period at a whim.

Webby was visible now, standing next to Lena; she could see Magica, too, a ways off, unconscious in a heap. Webby must have really gotten her good. 

“Woah.” Webby twisted her head this way and that, taking the scene in with awe. “This is… What are we looking at?”

“Memories,” Lena answered. “When people die, their shadows disperse into the Shadow Realm, along with a carbon copy of their consciousness. Us shadow monsters, well—we’re built from those fragments of consciousness. We can tap into them. What you’re looking at is a combination of a thousand people’s memories of what the docks looked like when they were alive.”

“Is that why the boats are doing… that?” Webby asked, as a nearby warship shrunk down into a fishing boat, and then vanished entirely.

“Yeah,” Lena said. “The piers are consistent enough that the memories line up to form something stable, but since the moored ships are going to be different in each memory, they tend to shift like that.”

“I wonder what the memories of Mermaid Isle look like…”

“I don’t know.” Lena shrugged. “I never went over there.”

They lapsed into silence for a few more moments, taking in the scene around them. The water below them moved, but not in a natural way; it sloshed forward, and froze, and jumped back in an instant to slosh forward again, not even making a hint of noise as it did so. It was mesmerizing, Lena supposed, but in a hollow way. It was fascinatingly fake.

“What should we do with her?” Webby asked. 

Lena followed her gaze over to Magica. She was sprawled on the ground, half on the pier and half off, but that didn’t matter—the pier wasn’t real, anyway. You couldn’t fall off of it if you tried. Magica was lying flat on her back, her broken arm splayed out to the side, and the burned half of her face turned up towards them, blood staining her cloak.

“It doesn’t really matter now,” Lena said.

“But I mean, shouldn’t we kill her?” Webby reasoned. “My toxins won’t keep her down forever. If she wakes up, won’t she just try to attack us again?”

“Oh, for sure,” Lena said. “But she won’t be able to. For one, she can’t see us—only shadow monsters can tap into the memories in order to gain vision. Also, her magic is tied to the energy in your dimension.”

“Our dimension,” Webby corrected.

“I—right.” Lena smiled. “Our dimension. Point is, she won’t be able to access that energy from across the Veil. She’s powerless here.”

“So…” Webby paused. “I guess we won, then. Magica’s defeated.”

Lena dropped down to sit on the pier, clutching Webby’s hand as tight as she could. “I guess we won, Pink.” 

Webby leaned into her, and Lena leaned back, feeling Webby’s soft feathers and rough scales press against her skin. The two of them wrapped around each other, holding on with all their hearts, alone in that monochrome world that Lena used to call home, and cried. 

Lena didn’t quite know how long they sat there, sobbing into each other’s shoulders. They didn’t say anything more—they didn’t need to. But eventually the tears ran dry, and they fell to their sides, tangled up in each other, and if Lena closed her eyes and really pretended, she could almost trick herself into thinking they were back in her bed on the ship, safe under the covers as they sailed through the night.

It wasn’t long before Lena’s exhaustion from the fight overtook her, and her mind slipped away, Webby’s warm body and pulsing heartbeat guiding her to sleep.

She didn’t get much rest, though. Far earlier than she would’ve liked, she was awoken by a voice screaming out her name.

“LENA!” Magica screeched, shrill and angry. “Lena, I know you’re there! Don’t you hide from me!”

Briefly, Lena wondered if it had all been a dream, and she was still on The Dark Eclipse, getting yelled at to come out and help Magica with whatever chore she didn’t want to do this time. Just one impossibly long, impossibly fucked-up dream. But she knew it wasn’t; she knew by the sickly coldness of the Shadow Realm around her, contrasted with the pleasant heat from Webby in her arms, who had apparently also been woken up by the shouting.

“Oh,” she mumbled, sitting up groggily. “Her. Right.” 

Lena sat up too, but made sure she was still hand-in-hand with Webby. “Couldn’t she have stayed out for a little longer? I mean, come on.”

“I know,” Webby affirmed. “Just plain rude, honestly.”

“I can  _ hear _ you, you pathetic wretches!” Magica screamed. She was limping around aimlessly, blinded by the nature of the Shadow Realm and slowed by her wounds. She shot a hand out towards their general direction, but, obviously, nothing happened. “What?!” she seethed, throwing out a few more pointless gestures.

“That’s not going to work,” Lena helpfully informed her.

Magica scowled, head whipping around in a desperate attempt to pinpoint Lena’s location. “You! What did you do to me? Or was it your dumb-as-bricks little  _ pet?!” _

Lena gave her a flat look; not that she could see it or anything, but it was the thought that counted. “Her name is Webby, and she’s my girlfriend.”

“Yeah!” Webby followed up. “And don’t disrespect bricks! Bricks would  _ never _ do something as stupid as you just did.”

“Oh my  _ god, _ every word that comes out of your beaks is more in _ sufferable _ than the last,” Magica lamented. “As soon as I get my magic working again, you’re  _ dust!” _

“You’re not getting it back, Magica,” Lena said calmly. “You can’t access any of your powers here. You did this to yourself when you opened that portal.”

Magica was silent for a moment as she processed that. “W-what? You mean I’m  _ stuck _ here with you brats?”

“What the hell did you expect?!” Lena fumed. “Ugh, you’re such an  _ idiot! _ Thanks to your  _ ingenious _ decision making, you get to starve to death alone in the dark. I hope you’re fucking proud of yourself.” She huffed, turning around. “Come on, Webby. Let’s go.”

“No!” Magica screeched, a hint of panic entering her voice. “You can’t leave me, Lena! You—you  _ need _ me.”

Lena bristled and opened her mouth, but Webby beat her to the punch, baring her teeth at the witch, rage pulsing beneath her skin. “Lena doesn’t need you,” she hissed. “Lena’s  _ never _ needed you.”

_ “I _ was the one who brought her into the real world!” Magica shouted, taking a shaky step towards their voices. “I gave her a body; I gave her a  _ life!” _

“And some life it was!” Lena shot back, clenching her free hand into a fist. “You didn’t give a shit about me! You didn’t give a shit about  _ anyone _ but yourself! And  _ look  _ where it got you.”

“I don’t know if you noticed,  _ Lena,  _ but we’re in the same place,” Magica sneered. “You’re not  _ better _ than me.”

“I never said I was!” Lena yelled. “Life isn’t  _ about _ being better than other people! That’s what you could never understand. You want to know the difference between us, Magica?”

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Do enlighten me.”

“The  _ difference,” _ Lena seethed, “is that I have people who  _ love _ me. I have people who care about me! It took me a while to realize just how  _ important _ that is, but—but it’s  _ leagues _ more important than just hoarding power. Right now, I have people on the other side of the Veil who are worried about me. Can you say the same? Is there anyone,  _ anyone at all, _ who misses you right now? If you died right here, right now, in this sad, empty abyss, do you think  _ anyone _ would mourn you? Do you think a single person would be upset? 

“The world isn’t going to shed a  _ tear _ for you, Magica,” Lena finished. “And you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Magica had a stunned expression on her face, but it didn’t last long, quickly scrunching up in fury. “Why, you—I—the  _ audacity—” _ She let out a screech. “OOOOOH, like you’re one to fucking talk! You’re not even  _ real! _ I’ll hand it to you, you’ve done a  _ stellar _ job tricking those nitwits into thinking that you’re a real person, but nothing will change the fact that you’re just a pathetic clump of shadows masquerading as a stuck-up girl. A word of advice to you,  _ Webbigail _ —I know you don’t have much longer until this place does you in, but do yourself a favor and don’t spend it sucking up to this  _ monstrosity!” _

“SHUT UP!” Webby screamed. “You don’t know  _ anything _ about us! You’re a deranged little broken excuse of a woman, Magica! I could kill you right now—it’d be so  _ easy— _ but you’re not worth the energy. Even if I’m starving in a few days, I can promise that I won’t even  _ eat _ you; it would be doing my digestive tract a disservice! Lena’s more of a person than you’ll  _ ever  _ be, and she’s way prettier than you are, and she has better hair, and she gives  _ excellent _ cuddles, and I love her! I hope you trip on your stupid cape and choke on your bloated ego and die a slow, painful death!”

Lena’s beak dropped, and she stared at Webby. She hadn’t thought Webby had it in her.

Magica also looked a bit taken aback. “That—that doesn’t change the fact that—”

“Shut up! Shut up!! I don’t want to hear another  _ word _ out of your stupid dumb idiot mouth or I’m going to come over there and break your other arm!” Webby fumed. “I’ve had  _ enough!” _

Magica opened her beak, then seemed to realize that Webby wasn’t kidding, and closed it again. 

“Thanks,” Lena said softly. 

Webby squeezed her hand in acknowledgement. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Lena nodded, and they were just turning to leave when a vaguely humanoid mass of shadows swooped in from above them—a shadow monster. Lena cursed under her breath. While violence between shadow monsters was relatively rare, she didn’t know how they’d take to seeing a mortal in their realm. 

But much to her surprise, the monster sped right past them, instead angling down towards Magica. Lena’s eyes widened as a long, curved blade formed out of the shadows that would normally comprise its right arm, and Webby let out a gasp as it plunged the blade straight into Magica’s chest. She didn’t even have time to scream: one minute, she was there, and the next, she was reduced into a fine black dust that quickly dispersed into the surrounding darkness.

“What was that?!” Webby whispered frantically from her side. “Did that thing just kill her?”

“I… think so?” Lena said. Then the lightbulb went off, and she raised her voice, calling out to the shadow monster. “Wait! You’re Magica’s patron, aren’t you? Or—ex-patron, I guess.”

He turned, a single glowing eye rolling around to meet Lena’s.  _ Indeed. I am called Bradford. _

“Lena,” Lena said. “I’m, uh, also one of Magica’s ex-patrons. So, like, I get it.”

_ I know who you are, _ Bradford said.  _ Apologies about trying to kill your friends. It was purely business. _

“Oh, no, yeah, we get it,” Webby said, waving her hand. “No hard feelings.”

Lena nodded. “Yeah, Magica’s a bitch. Or, uh, was.”

_ Quite, _ Bradford agreed.  _ All that power was attractive, but I realize now it was but the angler fish’s lantern. I did warn her that if she betrayed me, I would kill her, but… well, she has quite the hubris. I sympathize with you, young one, for being stuck with her for so long. _

“It really sucked,” Lena said. “On the plus side, though, my new host is pretty amazing.”

_ It must be a remarkable bond you share with her, _ Bradford said. _ Not many shadow spirits are able to preserve their connections across the Veil, yet you maintain a physical form. Cherish that. _

Lena blinked, then looked down at her hands. Which were notably still there. Wait… Her eyes widened—Bradford was right. Normally, her bond with Violet would have been severed when she closed the portal, but since her body was still here, and her contract with Violet was what let her have a body… “Bradford! You’re a genius!”

_ Indeed, _ Bradford said, clearly uninterested in Lena’s discovery.  _ Anyway. I’m going to give up on the physical realm for the moment. Perhaps I’ll try again in a few thousand years. Good-bye, for now. _

Webby waved him off with a smile as he disappeared back into the shadows. “Good-bye!”

Lena waited until he was gone, then turned to Webby with an urgency. “I think I might have a way back home!”

“What?” Webby turned, shocked, and then her face split into a wide grin. “Lena, yes, that’s amazing! Yes! Oh, I knew you could do it!”

“Don’t—don’t get your hopes up,” Lena said. “I don’t know if it’ll work yet. Anyway, though, like Bradford said, I still have my bond with Violet, right? But Violet’s still in the physical realm. That means that there’s a trail of magic leading from me over here to her over there—a tiny metaphysical hole in the Veil.”

Webby’s face lit up. “So all we have to do then is widen the hole!”

“Exactly,” Lena said. “I just—I don’t know if I have enough magic to back it up. It would be kind of similar to what Magica did, using the hole that Bradford went through once she banished him, but she—she has  _ way _ more magic than I do. The longer I stay in this realm, the stronger I’ll get, but… we might have to wait  _ years  _ before I mature enough to be able to make a portal big enough to move through.” As the reality dawned on her, Lena started to feel her hope racing away again. “Years that you don’t have. Dammit!” She stomped her foot against the ghostly wood below. “Why do you mortals have so many biological needs?!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Webby assured. “All we need is a lot of magic, right? There’s gotta be something around here that has a lot of magic we could use!”

“Webby, there’s  _ nothing here,” _ Lena stressed. “The only thing I can think of is borrowing the magic of another shadow monster, but if we do that, then it’ll be able to enter the physical realm and do whatever it wants. We could be putting everyone in danger,  _ again.” _

“Well… I’m here,” Webby said. “What about our magic?”

“Our sympathetic magic?” Lena raised an eyebrow. “Webby, your bracelet  _ broke. _ It’s gone.”

“But our  _ friendship _ magic is still there,” Webby said, reaching out and grabbing Lena’s other hand, too. “You said it yourself;  _ we _ were the ones who made those bracelets magical. Sure, the faerieweed helped, but all that power came from us. And it kept getting stronger the closer we got!”

“I…” Lena swallowed. “I  _ guess _ so.”

“Lena, you changed my  _ life,” _ Webby said. 

Lena couldn’t help but smile. “And you changed mine.”

“Exactly! So what’s stopping us from changing the  _ world, _ together?”

“Well… It’s worth a shot,” Lena said. “Why don’t you come up with the incantation?”

“Shouldn’t you do that? You’re the one with all the spellcasting experience.”

“I’ve gotta focus on tracing my connection with Vi. Besides, I don’t really know why, but… something tells me that it’ll work better if it comes from you.”

“…Okay,” Webby said. Their gaze met, and Webby’s eyes twinkled in that way that made Lena’s breath catch in her throat, and Lena found herself daring to believe—in herself, in Webby, and in the love that they shared.

Webby began to speak, and Lena closed her eyes, feeling her hair flutter in a sudden breeze.

_ “With the hand of my best friend…” _

* * *

Violet sat on the pier, cradling Lena’s sword in her lap, legs dangling over the water. All the others had left a couple hours ago, once the sun had set; they had reports to write up, or statements to give, or dinners to eat, or crimes to commit, or Uncle Donalds to go reunite with. Violet understood—really, she did. Those things (Goldie’s crimes, perhaps, excepted) were important. But she didn’t have anything or anyone else, so now it was just her, and the water, and the moon and stars.

Oh; and Beakley was there too.

The older mermaid had hauled herself out of a wrecked ship a few minutes after Violet and the others had arrived on the scene. She hadn’t said much when Scrooge had explained the situation to her, but it wasn’t hard to guess that she was worried sick about Webby. Violet felt for her—she had only just gotten her granddaughter back, and now, barring what would basically be a miracle, she had lost her again.

The two of them hadn’t exchanged many words, but, then again, they hadn’t needed to. They were both there for the same reason; waiting for that miracle to come.

And then it did.

There was an eruption of swirling blue light on the pier right behind Violet, and she started, Lena’s cutlass clattering to the wood. She swung her legs back under her and hauling herself upright, her beak open in disbelief. Beakley rushed over, too, and they exchanged a glance, each of them asking the other if, just maybe, it was okay to hope. Then the light died down, and Webby and Lena were there, hands clasped together.

“Webby!” Beakley called, abandoning any semblance of her stoicism and throwing herself onto her granddaughter, squeezing her half to death with her arms.

“Hey, Granny,” Webby said, her voice tender.

As they hugged, Violet turned to face Lena. Violet took a breath; her throat was sandpaper. “Is she…?”

“She’s gone,” Lena confirmed. “It’s over.”

Lena opened her arms in a clear offer, and Violet took it readily, feeling the tears coming even before she made it all the way into the hug. She cried, thick and snotty, and buried herself as deeply into Lena as she could.

“It’s over,” Lena repeated softly. “It’s all over.”

“I’m so g-glad you’re ok-kay,” Violet choked out between sobs. “Th-thank you. For everything. I-I—”

“Shh, hey,” Lena said, fingers grasping at Violet’s hair. “I should be the one thanking you.”

“Y-yeah,” Violet said, managing a crooked smile. “Yeah, you sh-should be.”

Lena laughed, and it was bright, and it was weightless, and it was  _ free. _ And Violet cried harder. “I c-can’t wait f-for you to meet my p-parents,” she croaked out. “They’re gonna l-love you.”

“Yeah,” Lena said. She was crying too, but lightly, the tears sparkling as they rolled down her cheeks. Show-off. “I can’t wait for… for  _ everything.” _

Violet gave a weird, gross hiccup-laugh. “It’s okay,” she said, “you can s-say ‘kissing Webby some m-more,’ I don’t mind.”

Lena snorted. “You’re the worst, Vi, you know that?”

“What are s-sisters for?”

“Yeah,” Lena said, her voice breaking as she pulled Violet in tighter. “Yeah.”


	26. There's Nothing In This World That Could Tear Us Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time to sheathe the swords.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we made it all the way to the epilogue.
> 
> Thanks so, so much for reading my funky little pirate mermaid AU!! Special thanks also to everyone who left a comment, _especially_ those of you who kept commenting each update, y'all are the real ones. If you're a creative, I'm sure I don't need to explain how much that kind of feedback can help when it comes to a project of this magnitude; I definitely lost my motivation a few times, but knowing you guys are out there enjoying the things I write always helps me get back on my feet. So, thanks.
> 
> Also I want to extend a special thanks to the Weblena discord server, and all the support I've gotten from the wonderful people there, as well as the AMAZING artists who've drawn art for the series. You guys are the best!! 
> 
> If you ever want to engage with me and ask questions about the story or my process or anything, you can always send me asks or DM me over on my [my tumblr,](https://webby-vanderslap.tumblr.com/) but otherwise, that's all from me on this. I hope you enjoy the end of the story!

Donald Duck’s luck was famous to all who knew him, in exactly the opposite way that his cousin Galdstone’s luck was famous. He had accepted this a long, long time ago; that didn’t mean, however, that he didn’t curse it every day he woke up to an empty house with three empty beds.

That is, until one evening when he received a knock on the door while he was in the middle of washing the dishes. He sighed, turning off the tap, and made his way over to the foyer. He prepared an excuse in his head as he heaved the door open, ready to turn away whatever solicitor had decided to bother him today.

“What do—” He stopped dead.

Huey gave a small, embarrassed wave. “Hey, Uncle Donald.”

Donald stared. The boys exchanged a glance.

“Um,” Dewey started. “Are you alright?”

Donald dropped to his knees and took the three of them into a hug, squeezing them as tightly as he could. “Boys! You’re okay! I was so worried…”

“Sorry, Uncle Donald,” Louie mumbled.

Donald let up, and that’s when he noticed the older duck standing a few feet behind them. “Della!” he greeted, his relief spilling out over his face. “Oh, I’m so happy you’re all okay!”

“Me too,” she said, stepping forward with an unnatural _tap_ against the threshold. “Boy, do we have some things to tell you about.”

Donald’s eyes widened. “What happened to your leg?”

She chuckled a bit. “Okay—a lot of things. Maybe we should sit down?”

“Good idea,” Donald said, nodding his head. “But first things first—you three?”

The triplets looked up at him. 

Dewey blinked. “Yeah?”

“What is it?” Huey asked.

Donald frowned at them. “You’re—”

* * *

“—grounded?!” Dewey exclaimed, flopping angrily onto his bed. “Are they serious?”

“I know, right?” Louie mumbled, slouching down into his desk chair.

“Well, we did kind of steal his boat,” Huey reasoned as he closed the door. “And then we ran away and joined up with a pirate crew, and then we captured a mermaid, and then we almost died to the mermaid, and then we conned a shady rich kid out of an absurd amount of money, and then we tried to fight Magica, the most dangerous pirate in the world, and then we almost died again a couple times.”

“I mean when you put it like that you make it sound like we did something wrong,” Louie grumbled.

“Okay, so we didn’t exactly follow Donald’s ten step safety plan,” Dewey said, rolling his eyes. “But how can they ground us _now?_ We should be out trying to find a way to get Webby and Lena back!”

Louie sighed. “Dude, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really think we’re going to have much luck with that.”

“What, so you’re just going to give up on them?” Dewey accused.

“What do you want me to do?” Louie exclaimed, throwing out a hand. “Oh, just let me whip up a portal to the _Shadow Realm_ real quick and yank ‘em on over here, it’ll be easy!”

“Well you could stop making _jokes_ about our _missing friends,_ for one!” Dewey huffed. “It’s like you don’t even care about them!”

“I—” Louie flinched back, hurt. “Of course I care. Do you need to see me start sobbing into my bedsheets to prove it to you? Because if so, you can just wait until we’re trying to fall asleep tonight and I break down, ‘kay?”

“Guys,” Huey said, reaching out a hand. “Can we please, just… not fight right now?”

“You’re—sorry, I’m—yeah,” Dewey said, rolling over and running a hand through his hair. “No, you’re right, both of you are right. I’m just—I feel so helpless. I hate it.”

“Yeah,” Louie said with a sigh. “I don’t like it either.”

“Boys?”

They all turned as the door opened, Donald poking his head into the room.

“You have some friends here to see you.”

The three of them exchanged a glance, and then they bolted out of the room like it was about to blow, stumbling over each other as they raced towards the door. And, sure enough, Webby and Lena were there in the doorway, tear-stained and smiling, Violet and Beakley idling a ways behind them. The triplets threw themselves around the two of them in a group hug that probably would’ve sent the whole lot of the tumbling to the ground if Webby’s defensive stance weren’t so robust.

“Woah!” Lena said as they piled onto her. “Wow, okay, jeez you guys are enthusiastic. I think I’m getting more hugs today than I’ve gotten in my entire life.”

Webby didn’t say anything; she just leaned into the embrace, clearly enjoying the contact.

“That’s really sad,” Dewey mumbled. “Remind me to hug you more often.”

“We thought you were _gone!”_ Huey exclaimed.

“Hey now, what kind of captain would I be if I abandoned my crew?” Lena asked.

“You’re not pirates anymore,” Donald said flatly.

Lena shot him a smirk. “You can take the pirate off of the ship, but you can never take the pirate out of the pirate.”

Donald raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Violet advised him from afar.

There was a brief moment of silence, but it was broken by Louie, who just mumbled a strangled, “I missed you guys,” right into Webby’s chest.

Lena snorted. “Oh my god, Green, are you crying?”

“Shut up,” Louie mumbled.

“Too-cool-for-school Louie Duck?” Lena went on. “Money-is-my-only-friend Louie Duck? I-don’t-do-emotions Louie Duck?”

“I literally hate you so much,” Louie sobbed.

“Lena, be nice,” Webby mumbled.

“Fine, fine. I missed you too, you dorks.” She took a single, shuddery sigh. “It’s good to be back.”

* * *

Scrooge had a lot of reports to write. He was no stranger to reports—he had filed a great many throughout his career, and he was, if he dared to say so himself, quite good at writing them. However, while one could be forgiven for assuming otherwise based on both the quantity and quality of reports that were produced from within his office, Scrooge, in fact, very much hated writing them.

So when the knock came on his door, he jumped at the distraction, and called out a cheery “Come in!”

Two young ladies entered his office, and he instantly recognized them as two of the girls who had helped with the defeat of Magica de Spell. His smile brightened. “Ah! Hello, you two; it’s good to see you in less… harrowing circumstances. I heard that you’d made it back safely from the Shadow Realm, Lena, and I must extend my congratulations! That’s no easy feat. Is there anything I can do for you two?”

“Yes,” Lena said.

“A lot, actually,” Violet added.

Scrooge blinked. “Uh—well, of course! What do you need?”

Lena set a hefty chest down on his desk with a resounding _thump,_ and opened it to reveal a sea of glittering gold pieces. “First: I need you to figure out a way for me to smartly invest this money despite the fact that I have no legal presence and am not technically an actual person.”

“Ah—” Scrooge swallowed. “How much money is that, exactly?”

“Ten thousand gold pieces,” Violet said.

Scrooge narrowed his eyes at them. “Forgive me, but I find it hard to believe that the pair of you earned this sum of money through entirely morally scrupulous means.”

Lena looked him dead in the eyes. “I was torn from my home dimension at the age of six and forced to work for Magic for ten years because you couldn’t defeat her properly and she became obsessed with taking revenge against you. Later, she attacked a defenseless and broke village that couldn’t afford to pay Naval taxes and kidnapped Violet, _also_ forcing her to work for her. And then after we ran away, she tried to kill us multiple times, and nearly succeeded because _someone_ lost to Magica _again_ and gave her her powers back. And _then_ I got sucked into the Shadow Realm because you stopped me from killing Magica when I had the chance.”

Scrooge didn’t quite know how to respond.

“Just some fun facts,” Lena finished with a casual shrug. “Anyway, about the money.”

“I… right.” Scrooge cleared his throat. “Well, as it happens, I’m very good with managing assets, so I can certainly advise you in the matter. Is that all?”

“No,” Violet said, taking a piece of paper out of her pocket and unfolding it. “This is alphabetized, but I can go in order of increasing scope if you would prefer.”

Scrooge opened his beak, then closed it, then opened it again. “…Alphabetized is fine,” he said at last, quietly brushing his reports into a desk drawer. It looked like they might have to wait.

* * *

Indy Sabrewing let out a soft sigh to himself, flipping over to the next page in his book. He was thankful that they had spare money enough to purchase new books every once in a blue moon; they weren’t well off by any means, but the town’s economy had come a long way since that day two years ago when… well. He didn’t particularly like to think about it.

The door to the house opened, creaking on its old hinges, and Indy looked up to see Ty ducking his head into the doorframe. “Hey, uh, honey?”

Indy raised an eyebrow. “Is something wrong?”

Ty furrowed his brow, frowning. “It’s—um—hm. Honestly, you might want to just come see for yourself.”

Indy’s eyebrow stayed raised, but he marked his place in his book and set it down, curiousity piqued. He followed his husband out of the house and over to the shore, where a massive ship was moored at their humble port, comically out of place.

“Is that a Navy ship?” Indy asked in wonder as the two of them pushed their way through the small crowd of gawking townsfolk. 

“Think so,” Ty said. “Just don’t know what one of them would be doing out here. Olivia said that maybe they’re coming to make their offer again, but they should know by now that there’s no way we can afford their tax.”

“They also wouldn’t send a ship like _this_ for a job like _that,”_ Indy said. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough, though.”

Sure enough, after a couple minutes, the gangplank fell, and an old duck in a pristine black top hat came sauntering down to the pier, twirling a cane in one hand. He wore a Navy uniform, unsurprisingly—but Indy’s eyes were caught by the rack of glittering commendations adorning his shoulders. He wasn’t very familiar with naval ranking structures, but he felt pretty safe to assume that whoever this was, he was important.

“Ah, well, I see you’ve already noticed our arrival,” the duck began with a small chuckle, as if they weren’t going to notice a humongous warship docking on their shore. “I am Admiral Scrooge McDuck of the Duckburg Naval Base, and I come bearing good news!”

“An admiral?” Ty murmured. 

Scrooge cleared his throat. “Ahem! So, the Navy is instituting a new general welfare program in order to provide service to settlements that may otherwise be unable to pay the typical dues. The program is rather small right now as we sort out the logistics, but your town has been selected as one of the initial testing grounds. You can expect a few ships to arrive shortly in order to set things up. Additionally, you may be entitled to retroactive compensation for past pirate raids. And lastly, I need to speak with the Sabrewings as soon as possible to discuss a personal matter with them. Thank you.”

Scrooge tipped his hat, and instantly, a murmur spread throughout the crowd. Indy caught a million snippets of stray conversations—excitement, disbelief, confusion, gratefulness, skepticism; the whole gambit. But he and Ty just exchanged a puzzled look before walking forward, approaching the admiral. 

“Ah,” he said as he noticed them, “you must be the Sabrewings!”

“Yes,” Ty greeted, smiling uncertainly. “I’m Ty, and this is my husband Indy.”

“We’re, uh, very grateful for your generosity,” Indy said. “It’s certainly reassuring to know that we’ll have a more substantial line of defense against any future attacks. But, um, forgive me for asking, but what prompted this? You—or, your representatives, I guess—have always said that if we can’t pay the taxes, we’re on our own.” 

“Well,” said Scrooge, “this is just between you and me, but I heard that the program is being funded by the generous backing of an anonymous Navy officer.” He flashed a ten-star smile and a cheeky wink as he finished the statement.

Indy watched in fascination as the unsubtle implication flew straight over his husband’s head. “Wow, what a generous guy!” Ty said, clapping his hands together. “I wish I knew who he was so I could thank him.”

“Ah—indeed,” Scrooge said, an unimpressed look on his face. “Anyways, the reason I wanted to talk with you two specifically is because the Navy is offering for you to come live in Duckburg, all expenses paid.”

“In Duckburg?” Indy said, exchanging a look with Ty. “I don’t know, that’s awfully far away. I mean, we appreciate the offer, but…” 

“We’d be leaving everyone here behind,” Ty said, frowning. “And why us?”

“You didn’t let me finish,” Scrooge said. “I’ll explain the details on the way, but the long and short of it is that I ran into your daughter, and I owe her a favor. A lot of favors, actually, but that’s not the point.”

Indy gasped. _“¿Mi pajarita?”_

Ty had his hand over his beak, eyes watering. “I didn’t—I wasn’t sure if we’d ever— _thank you.”_

The two of them stepped forward and embraced Scrooge, Ty’s large form easily wrapping around the smaller duck, and Indy piling on.

“Ah… well.” Scrooge cleared his throat. “You’re both, um, very welcome, gentlemen. Uh… yes. Let me just, um…” Indy felt a hand pat him softly on the back. “There, there—it’s my pleasure, really. She was instrumental in the defeat of Magica de Spell; truly a gifted daughter you have there. You raised her well. Er…” He coughed. “We, um, plan to set out first thing tomorrow, so you might want to start packing your things?” 

“Ah!” Ty exclaimed, and the two of them stepped back from a relieved-looking Scrooge.

“Packing! Yes!” Indy swiveled around. “Yes, of course, we can do that!”

“Be seeing you, then,” Scrooge said, waving them off as he turned back to the ship. “Get Launchpad if you need help carrying anything.”

“Thank you again!” Indy called.

Scrooge just gave him a salute as he walked up the gangplank.

“I… this is so much,” Ty said, placing a hand over his heart. “I can’t wait to see her again.”

Indy couldn’t help but agree. “I bet she’s grown so much… I wonder if she’s made any new friends?”

* * *

“Lena, meet my fathers,” Violet said, stepping into the living room of their new house.

Lena looked up from the board game she was playing with Webby. Violet was standing just past the doorway, with two grown hummingbirds following in behind her. All three of them had red eyes and tear-stained cheeks; Lena was a bit disappointed to have missed their proper reunion, but she understood why Violet had wanted to keep it private. At the end of the day, she was just happy for Violet.

“Fathers, meet Lena,” Violet continued. “She’s your new daughter I mentioned.”

“Sup,” Lena said. 

Violet’s dads—Ty and Indy, if she remembered—gave her a cordial greeting, but were very obviously distracted, their gazes constantly flicking over to stare at Webby.

“Oh, right,” Violet said. “Forgive me; that’s Webby, Lena’s girlfriend. She’s a mermaid.”

She smiled. “Hi! I’m Webby.”

“A—a mermaid,” Ty said.

“Right,” Indy said, nodding, even though he clearly did not know how to process what was happening. “And you’re—you two are dating?”

“More or less,” Lena said.

Webby snorted. “Wait until you hear what _Lena_ is.”

Violet shushed her.

Lena raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Aw, what is it, Vi? Not ready to tell your parents about all your fun new magic tricks?”

Violet shot her a warning look, but Lena ignored it. How many times had Violet teased her about Webby? She had _no_ right.

“Magic tricks?” Indy asked, turning to Violet. 

“Violet, you never said anything about learning magic!” Ty exclaimed. “I _love_ a good magic trick! One of our friends back home had this amazing one that worked off of some fascinating optical illusions with mirrors; ohh, I wish you could’ve seen it!”

Violet made a face; Lena could see her mind whirring, trying to concoct an exit strategy. “It’s—well—” 

“You _have_ to show us sometime, _mi pajarita,”_ Indy said.

Lena couldn’t help herself and let out a little giggle, waving her fingers mystically in the air. “Yeah, Vi! You should start with the one where you make it look like their shadows get up and move around!”

 _“Lena,”_ Vi said sternly. Then she turned to her parents. “Can we move on? Lena’s just teasing me.”

Indy laughed. “Well, you _did_ say she was your sister.”

Violet rolled her eyes, but cracked a smile. “That she is.”

“So, uh, Webby, right?” Ty asked. “How did you meet Lena and Violet? I didn’t think mermaids were really… you know. Around anymore.”

Lena exchanged a look with Webby.

“How about we, um, work up to that one?” Webby said tentatively. “It’s kind of a long story.”

Lena glanced at Violet. “How much did you tell them?”

“Not much,” Violet said, shrugging. “Just the basics: we ran away from Magica, then helped Scrooge take her down.”

Lena nodded. “Right.”

“It was awfully nice of Admiral McDuck to do all of this,” Indy said, looking around the room. “He gave us this house, too, right?”

“Guess he’s just a generous guy,” Lena said flatly.

“Are you going to be staying with us, too, Webby?” Ty asked.

Webby looked up. “Hm? Oh, no! I’m just visiting. My place is over off the shore. After everything that happened, Granny and Scrooge thought it might be mutually beneficial to set up a mermaid colony off the coast of Duckburg to open more formal diplomatic relations. And I get to help run it with my friend Selene!”

Ty and Indy shared a confused glance, and Indy turned to them with a raised eyebrow. “Wait, are you and your grandmother…?”

“Oh! Right, haha, I always forget to mention this,” Webby said with a casual wave of her hand. “My Granny’s the Matriarch of the mermaids, and I’m the sole heiress to the throne. It’s not as big of a deal as it sounds, though.”

“It’s exactly as big of a deal as it sounds,” Violet corrected.

Lena didn’t say anything, instead choosing to watch, intrigued, as Ty and Indy tried their best to wrap their minds around all this new information. It was kind of funny the way their faces were scrunching up.

Ty was the first to find his words. “So… does that make us part of the royal family?”

A sly smirk appeared on Violet’s face. “Well, we might have to wait until the wedding for that.”

“What?” Lena asked, raising an eyebrow.

Violet frowned. “What do you mean, what?”

“What’s a wedding?” Webby asked.

Lena nodded. “Yeah, that.”

“You know, sometimes I forget how little you two get out,” Violet said flatly. “Nevermind. Look, I’m gonna go show my fathers around the house. You two can continue snogging or whatever it is you were doing before we interrupted.”

“Violet we are _literally_ in the middle of playing a board game,” Lena said, gesturing to the forgotten board between herself and Webby. “You can do better than that.”

“I’m tired,” Violet said defensively. “Anyway, I need to show them the master bedroom so they can drop their luggage. I’ll see you two later.”

“Bye!” Webby chirped. “It was nice meeting you guys!”

“Likewise!” Ty said, smiling wide. 

“You too, Lena,” Indy said. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”

“Uh—yeah,” Lena said awkwardly, waving them off. “See ya.” 

“They were nice,” Webby commented after the three of them had disappeared deeper into the house.

“Yeah, I guess,” Lena said.

Webby’s smile dipped. “Is something wrong?”

“Uh—no, not really. You’re right, they seemed nice. It’s just, like, weird, I guess.” Lena sighed. “I’ve never had parents before. Della was already a lot, and I was only living with her for, like, a couple weeks. I don’t really know how to… be a daughter.”

“You should tell them that,” Webby said, nudging her lightly with a tail fin. “I don’t have any experience being a daughter either, but I _do_ have experience being a granddaughter, and… well.” She shrugged. “I think talking about that kind of thing earlier instead of later might save you a headache later on.”

Lena laughed, a little sardonically. “I’ll bet. How are things going with Beakley, by the way?”

“Um—better,” Webby said. “Obviously it isn’t going to be an overnight thing, but I can tell she’s trying to listen to me more.”

“That’s good,” Lena acknowledged. “And I mean, letting you help oversee the colony is pretty big too, right?”

“I’m pretty sure the only reason she’s fine with it is because it’s good heiress training,” Webby said, rolling her eyes. “But no, you’re right. The fact that she’s letting me live on a different island from her is a big step up from not letting me leave the same house as her. Knowing Granny, though, she’ll probably pop over to check up on me every other day and pass it off as overseeing the colony’s progress.”

“Well, if you ever need to challenge her to another duel, you know where to find me,” Lena said.

Webby let out a bright laugh at that. “Hey, um, so this is kind of random, but, uhh…” Webby trailed off as one of the floorboards creaked above them, no doubt from Violet showing her parents up to their rooms. “Actually, can we maybe go somewhere, um, a little more private?”

Lena looked at her curiously. “What, did Violet give you ideas?”

“What?!” Webby blushed. “I’m—no, it’s—I mean, if you want to then sure, but that’s not—”

Lena swooped in and gave Webby a quick peck on the cheek, causing her to squeak. “You’re adorable. Come on, we can go to the garden out in the back.”

They made their way through the house and out the back door, settling down on one of the stone benches out in the flower garden. It wasn’t much of a garden, yet, really, since the flowers had yet to come in, but Violet had said that her dads had always loved to garden, so she’d wanted to get one started for them. Lena had offered to try to find a plant growth spell, but Violet had called that ‘cheating’ and turned her down, which was honestly her loss.

“What did you want to talk about?” Lena asked once they were settled.

“Right!” Webby turned to look at her, tapping her claws against the seat of the bench. “So, remember way back when I made you your bracelet and you said that you write poetry and then I said that we should totally start a poetry circle and then you were like maybe later?”

Lena laughed, seeing where this was going. “Yeah, I do. And to answer your next question, yeah, I think that could be fun. As long as it’s just between the two of us for now.”

“Of course!” Webby said, beaming. Then she pulled her lyre out of her bag. “I’ll go first.”

Lena blinked. “Wait, right now? But I don’t even have my notebook with me!”

“That’s okay!” Webby said. “It can just be me this time. Honestly, I mostly wanted an excuse to share my new song with you. But you can go first when we do it for real to make up for it, alright?”

“I… alright, Pink,” Lena said, shaking her head fondly. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“Yes!” Webby celebrated. She twisted into a playing position, beginning to tune her lyre. “It’s, um—it’s called ‘Be With You Again.’ Okay, here goes!”

She began to play, her claws deftly plucking at the strings, and a beautiful melody filled the air, ringing throughout the garden. After a few measures, Webby started to sing, and Lena found herself lost in her voice as the music washed over her. 

_“Loneliness has a certain taste_

_It’s never quite left my mouth_

_But now at least when you’re around_

_I have your smile to wash it out._

_“If I could wish on a fallen star_

_And make all my dreams come true_

_I wouldn’t change a single thing_

_Because my only dream is you.”_

Then her talons kicked into high gear, and the music built as she entered the chorus. 

_“Cause I really want to kiss you super bad_

_I want to hold you if you’re ever feeling sad_

_I want to stay with you until my bitter end_

_And after that I want to be with you again_

_Yeah after that I want to be with you again…”_

The music calmed again, and Lena moved her beak silently, struggling to find the words. “Webby, I—”

“Shhh! I’m not done!” Webby chastised, smiling up at her like a dork. Lena wasn’t one to talk, though; she could feel herself making the stupidest face. 

“Right, sorry,” Lena said. “Please continue.”

“Thank you.” Webby waited until the chords cycled around again, and then started in on the next verse. 

_“I know we haven’t really talked_

_About our relationship_

_So I was thinking, maybe we_

_Could go out for dinner after this?_

_“I know it might seem kinda lame_

_After all that we’ve been through_

_But I’d really like to take the time_

_To sit down and laugh with you._

_“Cause I really want to kiss you super bad_

_I want to hold you if you’re ever feeling sad_

_I want to stay with you until my bitter end_

_And after that I want to be with you again_

_Yeah after that I want to be with you again…_

_Yeah after that I want to be with you aaaaa-gaaain.”_

She strummed a few final chords, and as the harmonies resolved into a glittering resonance, she looked up bashfully at Lena.

“So, um, what do you think?”

“I think I love you,” Lena said, before leaning forward and planting her beak onto Webby’s. Webby readily returned the kiss, setting her lyre down to wrap her arms around Lena. After a minute, they parted, though admittedly not very far, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Dinner sounds great, by the way,” Lena said. 

Webby smiled, snuggling in and slotting her head into Lena's shoulder. “I’m glad. You know, being kidnapped by you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Lena groaned. “I’m never living that one down.”

“Nope,” Webby giggled. “If it helps, you were really bad at being mean. You’re just one big softie.”

“You got me,” Lena admitted, turning her head and pressing a kiss to Webby’s forehead. “The cool pirate thing is just a facade to lure in cute mermaids before they realize how not-cool I am.”

Webby giggled some more, vibrating against Lena’s chest. “I knew it.”

They lapsed into silence, gazing out over the mulch and soil and sprouting stems laid out in front of them.

“Everything’s changing so fast,” Webby said softly, after a minute. “I’m glad. It was all the same for way too long.”

Lena hummed in agreement, and reached out, finding Webby’s hand. Her soft feathers brushed against Webby’s sturdy scales, and their fingers wove together like the threads of a friendship bracelet. Across the garden, she watched a butterfly flit about on gossamer wings, as if it were waiting for the flowers to grow. One day, Lena knew, they would bloom; elegant, vibrant, full of life and color. Maybe not today—maybe not for weeks. But one day, they would, no matter what. 

Lena smiled. She was happy to wait; she had all the time in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyy everyone! [I made a tumblr for my ducktales fics](https://webby-vanderslap.tumblr.com/)! Pop on over if you wanna hang out, ask me stuff, or just look at the cute ducktales art I reblog! Thanks for reading :D


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